Something
by Aku Maru
Summary: 5th year AU plot: Potter's nightmares are doing physical damage. Snape sent an unknown element out to stop it. Black is neck deep into serious trouble. Lupin attempts to find peace and protect Harry. Currently Out of Commission.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: The world and most all of the characters belong to J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter Universe. I am forever thankful she allows us to use the world for our own amusement.

**Summary**: Set in the Fifth Year of the Harry Potter Series, this Alternate Universe deals with a more aggressive link between Lord Voldemort and Harry Potter and the various attempts to contain the damage such a link creates. Severus Snape plays a prominent role in protecting Harry, much to his dismay. His own history is stirred up when a past acquaintance is revealed as the catalyst required in order to end Harry's nightmares. Adding to the complications in Snape's and Potter's lives Sirius Black runs into trouble of his own when caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. For once the questions surrounding his loyalty are truly necessary. The conclusion of the confusion could very easily end more than one life.

Chapter 1

Harry fluttered his eyes. Something was in his room with him, but he was too weak to do anything about it. Surely that alone should have pulled him from his half sleep. He was laying in his half made bed staring at the ceiling wondering how long until Aunt Petunia came in to yell at him to get down stairs and make breakfast. Maybe he could play sick and be left alone. If he couldn't stand on his own two feet, the Dursleys might actually leave him alone.

A violent shutter took control of him and he fell unconscious. But the thing about falling unconscious was that Voldemort always seemed to be there, ready to scare the living day lights out of him, or subject someone to the Cruciatus Curse and let Harry feel the consequences. He was certain by now that the Dark Lord knew about the connection they had and could use it to his advantage. He had let Ron care for Hedwig this summer to avoid any conflict with Uncle Vernon, but now he wished he had her here with him. He would be able to owl Professor Dumbledore about his suspicion.

The location of the graveyard was unknown to him, but he had been there many times. This time Voldemort had his famed Inner Circle around him. He could tell by the severe pain in his scar that the Dark Lord was angry. In a rage he had not yet felt before. Harry guessed that someone had failed the evil wizard. "Lucius Malfoy, step forward," the red eyed devil spoke in a deadly calm. Severus Snape did the same thing. The angrier he became the quieter, lower and deadlier his voice became. Snape must have picked up the habit from his 'Master.' It was a scary thought. The man he was supposed to trust was a servant to the most powerful evil wizard in existence.

"Yes, my Lord," Malfoy said bending his body for a formal bow. He did not seem troubled by the dangerous quality Voldemort's voice possessed.

"You came forward with some disturbing information, Malfoy. Proceed to tell you colleagues."

"Thank you, my Lord," he said repeating his bow. "Sensitive information has been leaking into the Ministry. I have quelled most of it as mere rumor of paranoid minds. Fudge is starting to suspect he is being played false. I believe someone is informing the Ministry of our movements. Our last few raids have been spoiled by Aurors before our victims could possibly have had time to raise an alarm. I fear the leak is in this Circle." Malfoy inclined his head respectfully, signaling his report was finished.

"As I said, it is very disturbing news," Voldemort continued, pacing the edge of the circle. He motioned Malfoy to return to his position. "Unfortunately I trust none of you explicitly, nor do I have any concrete suspicions. All of you are in a position to anonymously tip off the Ministry, though I doubt any of you would be so foolish to do so. The threat of Azkaban is far to frightening to you. No. If there is a leak, then it would first go to Dumbledore, since the Ministry fails to recognize my rebirth. Isn't that so, Severus," he hissed to the man he now stood before.

Harry felt his stomach clench. He had known Snape was in Voldemort's service after seeing the Dark Mark on his forearm, but he had never seen the Potions Master at one of the Dark Lord's meetings. "Yes, Master. It is true that the Ministry will not take action against you, my Lord; and that Dumbledore is actively fighting against you." Snape's voice was hollow but respectful. It was so different from what Harry was use to that he was first uncertain if it truly was Snape who was talking. You never could be sure with those masks of theirs. What threw Harry off was how submissive the voice was. A far cry from the sarcastic git that roamed the hallways of Hogwarts, searching for students out of bounds.

"And tell us, Severus, how do you come by this knowledge," Voldemort hissed.

"Dumbledore is quite vocal about his views towards you, Master," Snape said, tipping his head out of respect. Harry was disgusted. The most feared teacher in the school was playing devoted servant to Harry's archenemy. It was something worthy of Wormtail, maybe even Malfoy, but he had always thought Snape was too proud to bend his knee to anyone. Hatred towards the git not withstanding. "He has also told the few staff members he believes he can trust about Fudge's refusal." Snape continued.

Suddenly Harry noticed a change in the scene. There was a larger gap between Snape and those next to him. A lead ball dropped his stomach. The isolation was never good. And Snape did not even appear to notice the change. "Is that so, Severus? Does that fool trust you?" The deadly quality had returned.

"I believe he does, Master," Snape returned. Nothing in his voice betrayed fear of the present situation. In fact it was far more humbling than his previous statements.

The dry chuckle that followed froze the vary marrow of Harry's bones, but Snape didn't even flinch. Harry knew what was going to follow. It had happen far too many times for him to be remotely comfortable about the situation. "Indeed. You haven't given him any reason to suspect you, have you?"

"No, Master."

"Nor have you passed along any vital information?" The inquiry sounded innocent, but behind it lay a far more sinister intent.

"No, Master."

"Don't lie to me, Severus. But you may have been under that Muggle-loving fool too long and have forgotten what it means to follow me."

"I have not, Master." The slight edge of pleading surprised Harry.

Voldemort smiled and chuckled again, humorlessly. "I certainly hope not." He paused. Harry knew what was coming and wondered why the Dark Lord had taken so long to reach this point. "Crucio."

Snape twitched mercilessly, but no sound left his mouth. The scene was a far cry from the incident Harry had imagined immediately after the encounter with the Unforgivables and Mad-Eye Moody. Snape was not screaming uncontrollably. Was not begging for mercy. He was not begging in the least. He was on his knees as violent muscle spasms wracked his body. If Harry could see the face behind the mask, he would not be surprised to find the man biting his lip to keep from screaming.

Minutes after the application and no screams issued from the hated Professor, the Curse was lifted. Snape dropped his hands for support, muscles still twitching. Harry could hear the heavy breaths of a man in pain. He felt guilty for ever wishing this on the man. He cursed himself for even having that thought. Having that type of control over someone was evil. Now he prayed not to see the face behind the mask. He did not want to see the hated man's weakest moment.

But Voldemort had other plans. Leaning over the suffering man, he removed the white, faceless mask. A slight sheen of sweat glistened over the sallow skin of the Potions Master. The sight made Harry sick. The tunnel black eyes were out of focus as if the wizard was looking deep within himself. Voldemort reached to cup the man's chin in his hand; to his credit, at least to Harry's mind, Snape flinched at the touch.

The first breathless words from his mouth, however, stole whatever hope he had in the man. "Master, I swear I never told him anything. I swear, master, I would never betray you." The most impassive man Harry had ever known was begging. "Please, master, please." The plead trail off as Voldemort removed his hand.

"You are far to weak to test my fury, Snape," the Dark Wizard said, disgusted. "Your actions are being watched. Be sure you give no one the opportunity to peg you as a traitor. Crawl back to your dungeons, Snape, and keep an eye on that fool Dumbledore. I want to know exactly where he is getting his information from."

"Yes, Master. Thank you, Master." Then the Hogwarts professor Disapparated. Harry would never be able to look at the teacher the same way again. The small respect he had held towards the teacher was crumbling. He was a teacher knowledgeable in his area of expertise, but most of it had come from Dumbledore's trust in the man. That was gone. The man had no pride if he was groveling before the enemy. That was something he only expected of Wormtail, the betrayer of his parents. Perhaps all traitors were like that. Snape was either betraying Dumbledore or Voldemort, one never could tell for certain Maybe they lost all their pride when they made the decision.

Without realizing it, Harry was back in his room feeling weaker than before he was sucked into the vision. He couldn't even open his eyes to find the person he felt was in there. Why was he so weak? It frustrated him that he could not even protect himself from an intruder. It was impossible for the presence to be any one of the Dursleys. They were far too afraid to enter his room, especially at night. Even Uncle Vernon had started to ignore him. He figured that the less he associated with the boy then the less real he was. That didn't bother Harry too much. He at least got some time on his own.

But there was someone in his room, standing beside his bed. It was a feeling he could not shake. Something cold touched his forehead, right on the scar. The pain was bearable now, but the cold touched made it flare up again. To his dismay, he whimpered. He couldn't move. He feared he might be paralyzed. Did someone cast a Petrificus spell on him? Was that why he couldn't move? But the only wizards that knew where he lived were Dumbledore and McGonnagall, right? Why would they freeze him?

The touch reached his scar again, and he whimpered again. It hurt. It hurt so damn much and he couldn't do anything about it. The cold touch didn't leave his scar that time. The pain remained, but at least he stopped whimpering like a sick dog. After a moment the cold feeling traced along his cheek to his chin. He shuttered at the memory of Voldemort doing the same motions to Snape. It was impossible for Voldemort to find him here. Dumbledore had said so.

Somehow the cold touch felt warmer as it brushed his lips. The touch stopped, as though stunned. The small touch of what could have been a finger was replaced by some shape large enough to be a hand. It felt warm. Reason told him that something that cold could not have suddenly warmed up. The hand was on his neck. Harry wondered why. All the movies and T.V. shows he had watched with Dudley had people searching the necks of dead people for a pulse. But he wasn't dead. He was still thinking about the situation. Dead people weren't supposed to be able to think. He doubted if dying people were able to as well.

He no longer cared who was in his room. He felt cold and wanted to curl up and go back to sleep. To hell with Voldemort and the visions. They no longer scared him. Disgusted him, yes. But not scared him. For some reason logic told him that seeing the most terrifying teacher in existence cower before that wizard should make him very afraid. But he just couldn't find that level of fear within him. He just wanted to go to sleep.

Pain. A searing, white hot pain ripped through his body. It was the type of pain usually isolated in is scar, but this time his entire body felt it. A blinding white light blazed into existence. He tried to shut his eyes against it but they were already closed. Before his body could even adjust to the strange condition there was total blackness. Nothingness. Then he knew nothing more.


	2. Chapter 2

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Chapter 2  
  
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A thunderous booming on the main doors brought Minerva McGonnagall from her bed chambers. Clad in her dressing robe she went to answer. They hardly ever received visitors by this method. At least not unannounced and planned visitors. She had caught a quick glance at the clock in her room, it was well past midnight. Holding her candle she watched the floor ahead of her. A small wave of her wand lit the corridors so she could wander without the fear of tripping.  
  
Still the visitor at the doors continued to pound on the door. Minerva idly wondered if Albus Dumbledore could hear the noise in his tower. All of the other professors were away on vacation, leaving herself and Albus. Poppy had remained at the request of Dumbledore so they could keep Severus Snape from falling down dead after any of his meetings. She faltered in her step when she thought of this. But Death Eater would not knock. For that matter most wizards wouldn't have remained outside this late in the night trying to smash the door in and wake everyone in the castle.  
  
She had been wakened from a pleasant dream. One where she was at her childhood home playing in the butterfly garden her mother was so fond of. She had done that every summer while attending Hogwarts. It was perhaps her favorite memory of her old home. It was still standing, but it had been given to her eldest brother upon their parents death. She didn't mind terribly since she was always invited whenever she wished to come. She had bought a smaller house in North England and recreated the garden. Many of the butterflies were transfigured as they were not native to England, like her mother's. She would spend a few weeks there over the summer with her younger sister. It was a nice way to relieve the stress of being a teacher.  
  
The visitor was still pounding at the door. "I'm coming. I'm coming," she muttered as she drew closer. Why hadn't they just entered by now? The doors would open to anyone friendly to this establishment. It seemed odd to have a friend this late at night not barge through the doors. Reaching out she wrenched to door from the relentless battering.  
  
The scene on the other side shocked her enough to drop her candle before she drew her wand. A vampire was standing on the threshold with a large bundle wrapped in its cloak. Its face attracted her attention. Red tinged eyes, the tell-tale sign of Bloodlust. The long white porcelain face with high cheekbones. Two long fangs protruding over colorless lips. But the signs of Hunger were overridden with the strange expression of desperation.  
  
"Who are you and what do you want?" McGonnagall demanded wand poised at the intruder's throat.  
  
"The boy is in need, madam," the vampire responded calmly. By its voice you would be unable to tell it need to feed. It spoke in such a polite manner it was hard to believe the man was a vampire. "He is a student at this school and requires your assistance. If I may enter and take him to your infirmary?"  
  
That explained why he had never entered. Minerva did not lower her wand as she considered. Was the boy in desperate need? And who was it? "Let me see him." Her voice was surprisingly steady. Obligingly, the vampire shifted the bundle in his arms to show the boy's face. "Harry," she gasped. Her wand arm fell when she recognized the pale, drawn face and the identifying scar. The moment of shock faded quickly and her guard resumed. "What have you done to him?"  
  
"I, madam, have done nothing to harm the child. While he is still alive, the boy would fare much better in your Medi-witch's care than in mine. If I may?" He brought the discussion back the question of entry. Minerva had always believed that it was a myth that vampires could not enter without invitation, but here one was requesting.  
  
"Minerva, is there a problem?" the soft, calm voice of the Headmaster drifted towards her. How long had she been standing before the vampire with her wand drawn. She neither lowered her wand nor averted her gaze from the potential threat holding Harry Potter. A sharp intake of breath signaled Dumbledore's identification of the 'visitor' and Harry. "I see," he said. "And what are you doing here?"  
  
"I have come, sir, to place this boy under your care," the vampire explained once again, a small amount of annoyance filtering through. "If I might be permitted to take the lad to your infirmary, he shall mend better."  
  
"Minerva," Albus addressed her calmly. "You may lower your wand. The man is not posing a threat to us. Nor do I think he will." Turning to the vampire, he said, "You may accompany us to the hospital wing so you do not frighten our nurse by your unexplained presence."  
  
"I thank you, sir," it said nodding his head politely. He then stepped over the threshold.  
  
"Minerva, if you would lead the way," Albus said gesturing her forward. She nodded curtly and set off at a brisk walk for Madam Promfrey's infirmary. "Now, perhaps you could tell me what happened to young Harry, here?"  
  
"I am sorry, sir, but a long winded explanation is not in my capacity to preform at the moment. Perhaps you can settle for my name until a better time."  
  
"I can settle for that at the moment."  
  
"Irvan."  
  
"Thank you, Irvan. I'll wait to question you until you are in better health." Irvan nodded his agreement and they continued down the corridors to the infirmary. Albus was studying this new person covertly, but had a feeling the vampire knew. He had a strange premonition that this was a vampire from old, but could not discern its age. It was about as tall as himself and glided along side him with an unnatural grace. The physical appearance was nothing unusual, not like the manner with which the vampire had conducted himself. It was quite apparent that the vampire needed to feed and soon, but he had made no movements to do so, nor had he attacked Harry who was laying limp in his arms. And the cordial way he conversed bespoke of a cultured man, not the psychotic, blood lusting killers the books spoke of.  
  
Upon entering the ward, Poppy went on the offensive. Something had already woke her that night, and that something was sitting in a overstuffed chair, dozing. Severus Snape had returned and for once in his life had gone straight to the infirmary instead of his rooms or to inform Dumbledore. Poppy was glaring at them for disturbing her patient's rest. Albus doubted that Severus was truly asleep, unless she had given him some version of the Draught of the Living Death. On closer examination, he saw the horrible signs of the Cruciatus Curse. Uncomfortably twitching muscles. Poppy would not have given him a sleeping potion while he was in this condition.  
  
"Lay him on the bed," he told the vampire. To Poppy he said, "You need to look to Harry. As I understand it, he has been through something terrible." As predicted, she immediately went to Harry's side and blanched as she recognized the man clad in the black waistcoat. "He will not harm you, Poppy," Albus assured her by placing an comforting hand on her shoulder. "He was the one who brought Harry to us," stating the obvious in attempt to keep her from hexing the creature before her. Dumbledore still did not understand why the vampire had not attacked one of them to satisfy his Hunger. He must be near starving if the signs were so prominent.  
  
Irvan cautiously backed away from the bed, careful to not make any sudden moves that might be misinterpreted. Dumbledore was amazed at the man's control. The vampire glanced at Severus as he made his way to the door. "If you will excuse me, Headmaster Dumbledore, I must feed before we have our conversation."  
  
"Of course, Irvan. And you are welcome to enter once you have finished," Albus added, figuring that once the creature left he would have to be invited in once again. Irvan simply nodded once in thanks and seemingly disappeared.  
  
"Do you trust him?" Minerva questioned once they were alone.  
  
"Not precisely. He has not harmed Harry nor us, so I believe he can be trusted, but I know nothing about him."  
  
"He's a vampire."  
  
"True. But the issue of trust should be weighed after we have talked with him," he said firmly. He was curious about the creature, but Harry needed to be look to first. Then find out what Severus was doing here. "How is he, Poppy?"  
  
"He's fine. Weak. Exhausted. But other than that I don't see what might have caused any problems. If anything I would say the boy has just recovered from a severe cold, nothing life threatening. He's asleep right now, and I'd like to keep it like that for the moment."  
  
"That is good news," he answered. "What about Severus?"  
  
"The Cruciatus Curse. I gave him something for the after effects like I normally do. And he normally leaves. But tonight he just sat there, saying something about waiting. Then he just fell asleep."  
  
"Thank you, Poppy, you have been a great help. We'll wake Severus and leave you to your work."  
  
"Of course, Albus."  
  
Albus placed a hand on the professor's shoulder, waking him with a mere touch. The beetle black eyes focused on his for a moment as he attempted to figure out the situation. Albus smile reassuringly. "Come on, Severus. We will discuss this in my office." He pulled back to allow the lanky man to rise. He did not miss the furtive glance the Potions Professor cast towards Poppy and Harry. The questions would be answered in time, but he had a strong feeling that Irvan and Severus knew each other. The vampire had been careful not to watch the dark hair professor too much.  
  
"If you no longer require my presence, Headmaster, I'll return to my chambers," McGonnagall said to dismiss herself. She knew that Severus disliked informing before an audience.  
  
"Thank you, Minerva. I would appreciated it if you kept an eye on Harry for the next few days."  
  
"Of course, Albus. I would never let harm come to someone from my House." Nor any other House, Dumbledore added mentally. Minerva was a strong willed woman but cared deeply for all the students in the school. Despite the general dislike for Slytherin students. But that never got in the way of a professional relationship with Severus. McGonnagall nodded and departed for another corridor.  
  
"Come, Severus. I am intrigued by tonight's events and I have a feeling that you know more than I," he said turning to the reclusive wizard.  
  
"I have a feeling I do, Headmaster," was all he said as they walked up the spiraling stair towards Dumbledore's office.  
  
"Please have a seat. Lemon drop?" he offered the small tin of the little yellow candies. Severus would refuse and then meeting would begin. He had tried one once when he was still a student and reacted violently against the taste. He had been eleven, before he was well trained in schooling his face into a mask. At that incident, the boy had found the candy far too sour for his tastes and showed it visibly. Unfortunately, he had been in the room with James Potter. Severus most likely held those bad memories in relation to lemon drops. Albus kept trying to get the man to put the memories behind him.  
  
"No thank you, sir." Always formal. It seemed that was part of the boy that had never left. Or perhaps it was a defense mechanism that kept him from getting to close to anyone. Albus hoped to force him out of this condition. It would not always be necessary to remain cold and distance.  
  
"Perhaps you would begin with your meeting tonight."  
  
"It appears Lucius is getting suspicious about the Ministry's knowledge about the raids. And the Dark Lord seems to think all the information the Ministry is receiving must go through you first. He doesn't think it is me, no doubt Lucius does, hence the reason for calling the meeting. He warned me against giving him any reason to suspect me." Severus spoke in a detached manner, reliving the nights events at a distance, refusing to be caught up in it again.  
  
"That is serious. Especially since not all of my information do I receive is from you," Albus said cautiously. He could not reveal the other source out of their protection and for Severus's. It held no relation on the level of trust he gave the man, but on the consequences the knowledge might pose. Severus understood this, he knew, but he suspected the man was resentful that he couldn't be trusted completely and unconditionally. Albus pitied the man for the torment he went through, all the while knowing the Potions Master's pride would keep him from accepting or even desiring pity. "I assume you know about Harry's predicament?" Moving on to topics that need discussion.  
  
"I do."  
  
Albus waited for him to continue. When it was obvious he would not do so without coxing, the Headmaster began his questions. "May I inquire how you knew about Irvan's imminent arrival?" One way or another questions would be answered. But he had to go slowly to keep the Potions Professor from clamming up as he was wont to do.  
  
"He told me he was coming. I waited in the infirmary for him to come, but it seems Pomfrey put a silencing charm around the ward."  
  
"Why didn't you approach me about this?"  
  
Snape looked to his hands, uncomfortable. "I would have, had I not fell asleep in the hospital wing."  
  
"How do you know Irvan?"  
  
"Headmaster, I would prefer to cover that with Irvan present. You will no doubt have questions that I cannot answer."  
  
Albus nodded in understanding. "Would you like some tea while we wait?"  
  
"No thank you. I shall return to my quarters and wait for the morning. It might take him some time to return."  
  
"Very well. And thank you, Severus." The man started at this, leaving Albus to chuckle slightly. "I know you were behind all of this somehow," he said, eyes twinkling merrily. "Rest well. We'll discuss this in the morning." Snape nodded and left the room, slower than normal but with just the same amount of billow to his robes.  
  
Idly he wondered if it was true that vampires turned to dust in the morning light. Intuition never allowed him to believe it completely, but one never knew. There were many questions to ask the man when the time allowed it. 


	3. Chapter 3

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Chapter 3  
  
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"You can come out now, Irvan," Severus said to the shadows near his door. There was nothing visible to tell him the vampire was waiting, but somehow he knew. "It didn't take you long to feed."  
  
"No, it did not," came the pleasant reply from the shadows, declining to reveal himself. The reasons were not known to Severus, but he suspected it to be part of the creature's instinct to remain hidden, waiting for its prey. Much like the spiders it feed on. "Spiders are quite filling. And killing those is beneficial to the environmental balance."  
  
"Indeed." Severus always wondered about the vampire's odd sense of balance. He seemed to be merely an animal using his intelligence to explain his survival. "You have always been welcome in these rooms, why have you not entered," he said after unlocking the wards around the door. It was true that he left an open invitation to the man in case he ever needed to return. Snape had managed to forget about the vampire over the years and was thankful it had never accepted. Severus did not relish the necessary explanations that would follow such an appearance, like now.  
  
"It has been too long for that invitation to stand. And I would hate to appear rude by entering without your knowledge," he said as though knowing Snape's thoughts. The voice was like icy water flowing over his skin. It was only really noticeable when the vampire was concealed from sight. And only when he had feed. The tall graceful creature stepped from the shadows once Severus had the door open. "You have done well for yourself, my friend," in observation of the room.  
  
"I do not consider this 'doing well for myself.' In case you haven't noticed the situation I have carelessly placed myself, this is merely surviving."  
  
"Nonsense, Severus. The Headmaster cares for you deeply. Far more than a mere informant. Though you might not want that with your situation, but believe me, the old man hates the idea of you being hurt."  
  
"You have been reading minds again," Severus said sternly. He had specifically order the creature not to read the minds of anyone in the school. He strongly believed in privacy of thought. Dumbledore's ability was annoying enough.  
  
"Unfortunately, it is a consequence of starvation, one that I cannot control. Even then I only pick up strong emotions when I attempt to suppress it. I have not broken my promise, Severus," the vampire continued patiently. Snape had had this conversation before and knew it bothered Irvan to be questioned on his promises. The man was quite sensitive to rash judgments on his honor. Snape could sympathize, but nonetheless questioned because of his own paranoia.  
  
"Dumbledore is not expecting you until morning."  
  
"Good. Than means you can get some rest." Snape stared at him incredulously. "I have feed and therefore wide awake. You on the other hand are suffering from the Cruciatus and need to relax your body. I will be happy to watch your dreams if you desire, otherwise I shall remain in here reading." The vampire's long face was expressionless, but the midnight black eyes held concern Snape found disconcerting.  
  
"There is no need," he answered. "I'll see you in the morning." Irvan nodded once and went to look through the wall of books in his common room. Snape turned to his bed. A simple ordeal of an oak frame and forest bed covers. He spent little time admiring the bed and removed his outer robe and crawled in. Well, at least he had obeyed Voldemort this evening. Perhaps he would also take Dumbledore's advice to heart.  
  
* * * * * *   
  
When Snape exited his bedroom, he found Irvan in the exact position as he had left him in. Weight shifted on his right leg, hand poised under his chin. His thin black hair hung in a loose tail at the base of his neck, betraying no signs of movement. "Tell me, did you move at all last night?" he asked the creature's back with drawling sarcasm, before moving to ring a House Elf for some tea and toast.  
  
"No," was the answer. Snape smirked. Only a centuries old vampire would have enough patience to remain in the same position doing nothing for an entire night. "It doesn't appear you have any new books on this wall. I'll check another tonight." Snape knew from experience that Irvan would do exactly that, despite the joking manner he gave it.  
  
"I'll save you the trouble," he began in a silky drawl. "The new ones are on the far left of the North Shelf."  
  
"Then I suppose it would have taken me four nights to find them," Irvan replied smoothly as he sat across from Snape. "I was going to start on the South Shelf tonight. I take it we are going to have our little chat with Headmaster Dumbledore after breakfast," he said looking at the food placed on the table. He poured himself some tea and waited for Severus to finish.  
  
"Yes. I assume he is going to want to know why you brought Potter. And how exactly I knew. He has already asked how I know you. You should be able to answer all the questions that will follow that one. And I would not be surprised if McGonnagall or Potter will be present," he added disgusted. He failed to see why those two needed to know the full history surrounding Irvan and himself. He certainly had no desire to relive those events, much less acknowledge the fact that they happened.  
  
"You have always said this Dumbledore was a thorough wizard. Though I will not tell him anything you do not wish to have revealed," Irvan replied carefully.  
  
"It is best if they know everything, Irvan. As much as it irks me to have to have them know, now that I have involved you, they should know." And save them the trouble of interrogations, he thought wiry. Their history may not be relevant to the present situation, but Albus Dumbledore liked to know everything and always managed to pull it out of you no matter what you did.  
  
"If you are worried about how I feel about all of this, Severus, you have forgotten that I have already expressed my feelings. This is hardly the situation I wanted to be in but since I am I will not allow my disgust with the matter cloud what must be done."  
  
"Well that certainly explains you continuous desire to be civil," Snape responded darkly.  
  
Irvan laughed lightly. "Severus, if I recall it was you who had no desire to become otherwise. And it far better fits our personalities than if we attempted to be casual about the whole thing." The vampire rose elegantly with all the grace of a predator. "If you are quite finished, I think it would be a good idea to show Headmaster Dumbledore that not all vampires die in the sight of sunlight."  
  
"Perhaps if you tell the students that they'll be more apt to believe I am one," Snape muttered also rising, thinking about how that little rumor kept a good many students terrified of him at least until they were third years. "Dumbledore will either be in his office or the infirmary. I am more inclined to check the office first."  
  
"Very well. Lead the way."  
  
* * * * * *   
  
Albus was lounging on a couch reading the Daily Prophet when a soft knock interrupted. "Come in," he called from his seat and taking a sip of tea. "Ah, Minerva. A pleasant surprise this morning. How are you doing?"  
  
"Very well, thank you Albus," the Head of Griffindor answered sitting. She was hardly the strict Professor during the summer. She was quite pleasant. The lack of students did wonders on her rigid disciplinary nature. For Dumbledore, she was always available for idle conversations. "Harry is awake and Poppy has him eating healthily and is even willing to let him come up after he is finished."  
  
"Excellent news. I am certain he is curious as to why he is here over the summer holidays," the Headmaster said, pouring Minerva some tea. The poor boy had woken up in the hospital wing far to often to enjoy it. And more than often he never recalled how he had arrived. With it being the summer, Harry was bound to be more confused than ever.  
  
"That he is. It was the first thing he asked when he woke up. I must say this is quite irregular and I myself am curious as to why."  
  
"As am I, Minerva, as am I. But we will not know until Irvan decides to tell us. The most we can do until then is ask Harry what was happening and how much he remembers. Have all of the letters been written yet?" he asked turning to a discussion that they could answer. The conversation centered around the school, getting last minute details settle like who the newest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor should be. At least they agreed on the man. Other topics included the latest discovery in transfigurations; Minerva had altered a complex spell to make it more accessible to the average wizard. They talked for a good part of the morning, until Harry Potter timidly knocked on his door. "Good morning, Harry. How did you sleep?"  
  
"Quite well, sir. If I may ask, do you know why I'm here?" he questioned sitting in an overstuffed chair across from Dumbledore.  
  
"Quite frankly I do not. I was hoping you could remember something about last night that might help us."  
  
"I can't remember much of anything, sir. I think I had a vision of Voldemort, but other than that I just can't remember. Sorry, sir."  
  
"It's quite all right, Harry. I wasn't really expecting you to remember; I was just hoping you might." He was interrupted by a familiar, soft, three knock pattern. "Come in, Severus. We have been expecting you." The door opened to admit the scowling black clad professor and the expressionless vampire. Dumbledore watched as Harry's face morphed into an expression akin to horror or disgust at the sight of the Potions Master, then just as quickly into confusion when he saw the other man. "Please, come in and have a seat. It is a good morning to clear up our musings. But first, Harry this is Irvan, the man who brought you here last night." The vampire inclined his head in acknowledgement before taking a seat in the red wing back next to Snape in its twin.  
  
"Uh . . . sir?" Harry stuttered. Albus decided to let the boy ask most of the questions, considering he needed to know the most. "What happened to make you bring me here?"  
  
"To put it simply and frankly, you were dying and needed to be in the care of people who were capable of seeing to your needs. As it was, your relatives did not seem to notice the warning signs you were displaying." Irvan paused to read the expression on Harry's face. "You needn't worry. I left your aunt and uncle a letter explaining where you went in case they desired to reach you."  
  
"I doubt they would care overly much," Harry muttered to himself. Taken away in the middle of the night and without knowing it. They probably thought it was a Godsend. "But what happened?"  
  
Irvan, Harry knew the man was a vampire by the fangs protruding over his lower lip, gave him a calculated look before answering. Harry wondered why the man was answering at all. "I do not know why you were dying, except that your dreams were directly related." Harry was puzzled. Dreams were causing him to die? "Though I doubt they were really dreams or night terrors given how vivid they were. The one last night was violent enough to cause that scar of yours to bleed."  
  
"Bleed?" He must be referring to the visions.  
  
"Harry, what do you remember about your dreams last night?" Dumbledore prodded. The only way they could solve this was to know what the boy saw while asleep.  
  
"I. . . um. . . er . . . I." Being inarticulate at that moment, he stole a glance at Snape, who was ramrod straight in his chair, glaring darkly. Harry forced himself to swallow. There was no way the Professor could know that he saw what transpired that night, but he must have guessed. "I saw Voldemort and Professor Snape," he said finally finding his tongue, quietly fearing what the professor would do if he heard. Still cautiously watching Snape, Harry saw the expressionless mask flicker to surprise and back quickly. The glare returned darker than before and Harry shrank into his chair trying to hide.  
  
"Potter," Snape whispered dangerously. "What exactly did you see?" The words were forced. If Harry didn't know better he would thought Snape was afraid. Of what, he couldn'y say. But he could guess it dealt with his knowledge of the vision. He ventured a look. Snape was ridged, eyes focus on nothing but Harry. Harry swallowed. Snape couldn't do anything to him with Professor Dumbledore present, and McGonnagall.  
  
"Everything," he whispered looking away. That was perhaps the most difficult thing he had ever admitted. Snape would probably curse him into next week for seeing him so weak. And the scary part was Harry couldn't blame him. Harry himself was embarrassed over his own reaction to Voldemort's curses. Snape at least held some face towards them, even if he was a sniveling coward afterwards.  
  
"Dammit," Snape snapped. There was a very long pause before the wizard spoke again. "Potter, I would appreciate it if you were to tell no one what you saw." Again the word were forced through clenched teeth, perhaps more so than the others. Harry suddenly had the realization that Snape was desperate, that he had blackmail material to use against him. The thought bolstered his confidence slightly, at least until he realized that doing so would hazard anything Dumbledore might have planned. But Snape was desperate; he had all but pleaded with Harry to not reveal that information. He had asked, asked, not ordered, not demanded, asked that Harry not mention it.  
  
"Harry, I can not force you to agree to his request," Dumbledore intervened, sensing the tension. "But I will ask that you not divulge that information to anyone."  
  
"I won't, sir. But I don't understand how those visions were killing me." Harry turned back to the vampire. It seemed this man knew more than the others. "And why were you there at all?"  
  
Irvan cast a quick glance at Snape who nodded. The display was odd, but the creature answered. "Severus asked me to keep watch over you this summer." Harry stared dumbfounded. Such a simple statement brought up thousands of questions more. So many that he could not voice a single one.  
  
Dumbledore saved him. "This brings us to my question. How is it the two of you know each other?"  
  
"That can be answered simply, though I don't believe you will be satisfied with that answer, otherwise Severus would have already answered it. Simply stated: Severus saved my life."  
  
Now it was Dumbledore who sat recovering from shock. Severus Snape was perhaps the most bias man he knew, holding a special hatred for Dark Creatures like werewolves and vampires. The fact that he had saved a vampire was astounding. "And how did this happen?"  
  
"Seeing as how Severus is still shell-shocked, I'll take the liberty to explain."  
  
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AN: I sincerely hope nothing blares out as impossible for the situations provided, if so I wish to correct it and keep a smooth story line moving. As you might expect next time gives a little history, jampacked with conflict, because flashbacks should always be condensed.  
  
And for reading I say thanks.  
  
Questions and comments are submitted below. 


	4. Chapter 4

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Chapter 4  
  
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Severus Snape was going to yet another Dark Revel. He knew there was a time when he had enjoyed these, but now he was disgusted. He had crumbled a year or two back and confessed everything to Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. Why him? To avoid the hassle of the Ministry. Dumbledore would either kill him or send him to Azkaban without further bother. There the Ministry would give him the Kiss. If he had gone to the Ministry first then the interrogation would be ten times worse and he had no desire to be brutally mauled because he could not supply all of their answers. Dumbledore was the better choice. He was still working out the reasons for his betrayal even now.  
  
What had happened was a shock, just when he thought he had seen and done everything that could shock him. He was to return and spy. Simple request, but one that completely changed his outlook on everything Dark. Still intriguing and desirable, but the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord himself brought everything he desired to know to a pathetic low. He had never seen it as the forbidden fruit, but it was not knowledge you could easily build a cult on. Dark Magic was built on personal desire not a godlike figure to devote you life to. It was safe to say that he was no longer enraptured by such things.  
  
"We are in for a real treat, Snape." It was Malfoy, his old friend. The man had met him near the entry way of the building ready to escort him to the Lord's present 'court.' "We have an Ancient Vampire locked away and our Lord has something special planned for it. You should love it." Malfoy was grinning like a child on Christmas.  
  
Snape easily managed a genuine looking grin. Some prejudices were hard to mask. "A Vampire? This will be intriguing. I would have preferred a werewolf, but a vampire is just as good. Though I suspect I werewolf couldn't provide much amusement on any night other than the full moon. What is planned?"  
  
"I heard it was someway to force the vampires to follow Lord Voldemort. They were fool enough to refuse to join him. Something about Grendelwald I believe. They are Dark Creatures and belong to Him."  
  
"So when do the festivities begin?"  
  
"Oh they have already been going on. This past week was preparing the Vampire. I'd say he his half dead from Hunger. A pity you are working at that blasted school or you could have joined the fun. Tonight is the main event. And your expertise will be needed."  
  
Snape arched an eyebrow in question, but Malfoy did not answer. So they continued to the main arena. The Inner Circle was granted prime seating for the show, seats near their Master. Other Death Eaters had standing room only. But everyone could see the sand pit below.  
  
They approached their Lord, bowed deeply and waited to be told to rise. "Severus," his Lord and Master said. "You are familiar with the attributes of unicorn blood, are you not?"  
  
"I am, my Lord."  
  
"And the affects of unicorns on vampires?"  
  
"I know of them, my Lord, though never witness them."  
  
"Tonight will be your chance. If the legend is correct. There is a legend that says if a vampire drinks the blood of a unicorn it will die unless given human blood. Then it is bound to that human for a lifetime."  
  
"So you intend to bind this vampire to you, my Lord?  
  
"If the legend is correct, otherwise we should get quite a show. Much like the Gladiators of Ancient Rome. Who do you believe will win?" Voldemort address this question to his entire Inner Circle. Many of them chuckled at the wager.  
  
"I'd say you, my Lord," Lucius Malfoy said, always one to covet good favor. "I, for one believe, the legend."  
  
"I was referring to the outcome of the battle, Lucius," Lord Voldemort laughed, good humoredly. There were the odd times when the Dark Lord appeared more human than others. Now was one of them. "But I do intend to win over the vampire."  
  
"The vampire will win the battle, my Lord," Rosier said confidently. There were many mummers of agreement.  
  
"What say you, Severus? You seem to have a knack for predicting." The assembly shared a good laugh and Snape smiled and nodded acknowledgment to his Lord. They all knew he despised Divinations, but did have an uncanny ability to read people and situations. It was a common joke among them when times allowed it.  
  
"The unicorn, my Lord." Many, including Lucius, scoffed at this idea. The Dark Lord merely smiled at the suggestion and waited for the explanation that always followed. "The vampire is in a lose-lose situation. He drinks from the unicorn; either he dies from the toxins or he becomes yours." He too knew the powers of coveting favor. "Either way he loses. He doesn't drink and dies of starvation. Or the unicorn somehow overpowers him in his near death state. I feel that any way you look at it, my lord, the unicorn is bound to defeat the vampire." Snape did not feel the least bit sorry for the Vampire, but he did for the unicorn. The beast did not deserve to be murdered for the fun of watching a vampire suffer. He was certain the vampire would suck the beast dry.  
  
"I believe you are correct, Severus. Bring him out," the last was directed towards a man down by the gates. On one side a silvery blue unicorn was shoved into the arena. On the other, a ragged vampire, lost to Bloodlust. It was chained within a cage to keep the handlers from being harmed. It was a pathetic scene; the graceful and sexual creature that vampires were was nothing more than a wild, ravenous beast the stories spoke of. Its robes were torn to shreds, loosely draped about is form. Its body was no longer tall and beautiful, but emaciated and thin and sunken in on itself. Perhaps he could find some pity for this creature. At least the unicorn looked healthy.  
  
The handlers retreated from the arena and opened the cage. At that moment Snape realized the arena was bewitched to trap the vampire on the pit and make it appear as though there was no one else near by. The Vampire sprang from the cage enraged. Its first sight was that of the unicorn. It advanced slowly, careful to not startle the skittish beast. But the unicorn was not going anywhere. It stood its ground and watched the advancing vampire, waiting to make its move. When the vampire was a little to close it stuck, gouging its horn through the predator. He shrieked with rage and pain, fleeing the scene. Recovering, he tried to approach the beast again, but stopped and backed away, shaking his head wildly.  
  
"What's going on?" Malfoy demanded. He had come to see the show.  
  
"Malfoy," Snape began coldly. "I believe it has figured out it was trying to hunt a unicorn and does not want to risk killing itself by ingesting that blood."  
  
"Hmm. I had thought we had left him without blood for a long enough period for him to fall into a complete Bloodlust," Lord Voldemort mused as he watched the vampire cower in a corner away from the unicorn. He was holding his head between his knees in an obvious attempt to keep himself from the unicorn. He looked in pain. It was the only explanation Severus could find for its condition. "That can be easily fixed." And Voldemort fired an illusion spell at the unicorn. Suddenly the silvery blue coat of the unicorn flashed into a pale yellow of a bicorn, a creature that would not poison a starving vampire. Firing another spell at the vampire, the dark wizard smiled maliciously. "No need to waste good entertainment because of an uncooperative victim."  
  
The vampire was now standing, shuttering. Whatever Voldemort had fired had broken his concentration against the Bloodlust. It was advancing on the unicorn again, thinking it was a bicorn. Then the games began. The unicorn gouged and gutted the vampire countless times. Flung him around like a rag doll. Somehow, miraculously, the vampire bit down to drain the beast. Snape guessed that the unicorn was half drained, still alive but weak, when the vampire broke away as though from a fire. It had figured it out. Backing away, it collapsed into a shuttering wreak. He should have pitied the creature. No one should be forced to drink the blood of a unicorn. No one deserved a cursed life, but a vampire was safe from that, it would die after while. The toxins would slowly work their way to destroy the creature just as the other elements worked to feed it. Snape knew unicorn blood was poisonous only to vampires, he did not know why, but every part of a unicorn ingested raw, not used in a potion, would kill them.  
  
With a flick of his wrist, the Dark Lord summoned a goblet into the arena in front of the vampire. "Drink and be mine," he hissed. The vampire looked up. The changes were startling. Its eyes were no longer red with Lust, but silver and slightly glazed. The toxins were already at work. The face was fuller now, its cheeks no longer sunken in. In effect, it looked healthy, not dying. Then he looked at the goblet.  
  
"No." It was a whisper, but everyone heard it. "I refuse your offer." The voice was cold as ice, driving its way to your heart, resonating with resignation. Then he reached out, grasped the neck of the goblet and decisively flipped it over. Red blood seeped out of the edges. It must have been bottomless, receiving a large amount of blood from somewhere.  
  
Voldemort was in a rage. Rising, he raise his wand against the prone figure. "Then you shall die. I do not offer twice. Snape, take him and preform whatever studies or experiments you wish, but he is to die from that blood." A thick leather muzzle appeared on the passive vampire. "You may Apparate with him from there. Get him out of my sight." Snape bowed deeply, not desiring to anger his Master any further. Thanking him silently for the chance to escape his rage.  
  
He Apparated with the vampire into the Forbidden Forest. Far away from his usual Apparation destination. He removed the muzzle. It did not suit anything that resembled a human. "I will leave you here. Do as you wish," he drawled with his voice dripping with disgust. Part for the Dark Creature, part for what had occurred. He turned away, feeling no remorse.  
  
"Please," the voice was so soft, Severus barely heard it. "Don't let me die." The vampire was pleading. It went against every grain he knew about the creatures. They were proud and stubborn, not given to pleading. Quietly, yes, but still begging. Snape had no reason to help him, but he was trying. "I don't want to die, not like this." It was odd to hear that icy smooth voice plead. It was deep like a river, but the words did not fit a river. Severus turned around. The vampire had not moved from his knees, he was still looking up at him, desperation prominent in the glassy, silver eyes. "Please, not like this."  
  
"What do you want me to do?" he demanded harshly. He never was one to be moved by begging. Especially from a creature that did not deserve to live.  
  
"I don't know," it said defeated, turning its eyes to the ground, spilling stringy black hair over his visage. It was uncharacteristic of the proud and dominate animal authors enjoyed spilling their ink over. "Kill me. Help me. I just don't want to die like this."  
  
"Help you how?" Merlin, he was slowly becoming as sympathetic as Dumbledore.  
  
"Let me feed," it said simply, hope struggling to show itself in the eyes. "I won't drain you, I promise. I just need to remove the toxins."  
  
"You can do this?" Severus was skeptical, but listened curious. Removing toxins? He could list dozens of potions that could have the same affect, but not against unicorn blood. Not even any of the Dark Potions he was familiar with.  
  
"Yes. I can force the toxins out. Will you let me?" it asked. Severus could see fear drift into the mirrored eyes. Fear of what? Dying? Being refused? Having hope dragged out of him only to be squashed?  
  
Severus sighed. What was he doing? The creature before him was a bloodsucking leech. A creature to be despised as useless and worthless. And he was considering helping it? He had definitely been around Dumbledore far to long. This was something worthy of him. He had helped that werewolf, Lupin. Why not a vampire, as well? "What do you need?"  
  
The eyes showed hope now. The vampire had not moved an inch, but the eyes revealed what the voice would not. "Blood. The wrist is the most painless."   
  
Severus hesitantly walked closer to the vampire. He did not understand why he was doing this. It would not help him gain anything. In fact he was disobeying a direct order from Lord Voldemort. He reasoned doing this would help bring the downfall of the Dark Lord. He doubted it, but it was the best possible explanation available at the moment. Perhaps disobeying Voldemort was the best way to help Dumbledore. He still did not believe that. He was not even sure that Dumbledore would consent to this action. But no one should be forced to drink unicorn blood, voluntarily was a different matter. This thing was not given a choice and did have the decency to choose death at least until it be came delirious from the toxins. "The Dark Lord cannot know you are alive, if you do manage to survive."  
  
"I will not reveal myself to Voldemort, unless you desire it," the vampire answered. And Severus believed him. He pulled up the sleeve to his left arm and allowed the vampire to take it. Delicately, he slid his fangs into the skin and began to draw blood. He had been right, the process was mostly painless. The more he drew the more it hurt, but Snape remained stoic. Some time passed and the vampire withdrew the fangs, that hurt the most. It felt like someone was removing part of his body. "Thank you," he heard faintly.  
  
Stepping away, Snape was now able to observe the vampire. He was still hunched over, but a silvery, mirror substance was dripping from his mouth. Stringy black hair obscured most of sight. Severus suspect the unicorn blood was dripping from the fangs. He moved to better watch; the vampire did not seem to notice the movement. Sure enough, the liquid mirror was oozing from the fangs like venom. It formed a rapidly enlarging pool at the creature's knees. It was intriguing that a creature could command so much control over it's bodily functions that it could consciously remove deadly chemicals. He resolved to asked the man later.  
  
He waited long into the night for the vampire to finished, deciding it would take longer to remove half the blood of a unicorn than to drink it. Suddenly an overgrown arachnid attacked the unaware vampire. The vampire was toppled by the sudden weight, pinned to the forest floor by the other creature's fangs. Snape fired a spell that dislodged the spider, killing it. Alert for more he waited. The vampire was still extruding the blood when another attack came. He was prepared, blasting every spider that came into sight. At some point the vampire had begun to help him, savagely tearing the arachnids apart. Bloodying himself thoroughly. Severus suspected him to be feeding as well. "Give my your hand," he yelled once the Dark Creature was close enough. "Appearo!"  
  
Instantly they were at Snape's usual Apparation point. He staggered. He didn't think one of those spiders bit him, but he wasn't certain. He didn't remember much other than flinging spells at the arachnids and Apparating. "Hold still," a deep smooth voice said. "You've been bit." Fear confirmed. "Not bad, but there is still venom in your veins. Let me remove it." Numbly he nodded. Oversized incisors entered his wrist again. But this process was much more painful. When he was aware the pain had lessened, he opened his eyes and searched the clearing for the vampire. It was hunched over just out of his line of sight, retching. White goo streamed forth, sending Snape's stomach into turmoil. He too empty his stomach. "I fail to see why you are vomiting," the river-like voice said after a few moments. "You did not have anything toxic in there." Snape looked up to see the vampire standing over him. Porcelain white framed in midnight black dripping in blood red.  
  
Dread fill him as the first thought that crossed his mind was of become its next victim. When that settled down, appeased by the fact that the vampire had promised not to drain him, he was staring dumbfounded at the altered creature before him. His skin was white and flawless, eyes black as pitch, his form filled out and once again beautiful. Stringy black hair from sweat and blood had been pulled into a fairly neat tail revealing the face. High cheekbones, slender nose, long face. Everything in perfect proportion. Even disheveled from the nights tortures, the vampire managed to appear a complete gentleman. Surpassing even Malfoy's bravado. He reached out and pulled Snape to his feet.   
  
"I must thank you for what you did, though I doubt if you fully understand what you have done. I assume you work at this school. And must be returning. Allow me to create a way for you to call me at anytime you desire. Then once you are settled, set a place and time when you are ready to know exactly what has transpired." He spoke already knowing the answers and giving Severus no time to respond. Everything said in that calm, collected, patient voice.  
  
"First tell me your name," Snape demanded, his voice cold and emotionless. He was not going to loose face completely in front of the creature.  
  
Undaunted, the vampire answered. "Vampires normally go by one name, though if times demand it we will pick up another. Mine is Irvan. May I ask yours? I heard him address you as Snape, but I do not think you wish to have me address you as that constantly." Irvan stood waiting patiently.  
  
"Severus."  
  
"Please to make your acquaintance, Severus," he said giving a slight bow from the waist. "Now about that link. Do you wish that I do so now or that you owl me once you have settled?"  
  
"What does it entail?"  
  
"A quick, but painful, bite to the neck and an injection of chemicals that will activate the portion of your mind that functions for telepathy. The fact that it is chemicals from myself ensures that I am the only one that can hear you and enables me to isolate you should I need to."  
  
Snape stopped to consider. What had he gotten himself into? He had saved the vampire's life not once but twice. "Very well. Proceed with it now, if it means I'll be rid of you all the sooner."  
  
"I'm afraid you will never be rid of me, Severus," Irvan said as though to a small child. "Whatever Voldemort told you about his offer to me was quite true. Had I let his blood pass past my lips I would be his. As it is, I am yours. Not to mention the Wizards' Bond you created by removing that spider. I assure you I had no desire to become anyone's. But time and unicorn blood can change one's mind rather quickly. I do not pretend to understand your reasons for this, but I will make it clear that while I do not resent the situation, I despise myself for allowing it to come about. I hold no hatred towards you except for the fact that you are the one who holds my life, which I had asked you to take." At the end of this speech, annoyance filtered through.  
  
"You're taking it pretty well, all things considered," he muttered under his breath. Why did he put himself in such ludicrous predicaments? "How old are you?" Severus asked randomly.  
  
The vampire paused as if surprised. "I will estimate my age for I have no exact measurement. Either at or just past two millennia. I was old when the Founders built Hogwarts and was a good friend with Salazar, who allowed me access to any part of the property without invitation, except the castle itself."  
  
"How were you captured in the first place?"  
  
"I would rather not go into that just yet. It is very humiliating." Irvan took his eyes from Severus and placed them somewhere to his left.  
  
"Like that situation within the arena was not? Nor your begging me when we first arrived?"  
  
"I assure you, to my sense of pride that was a small dent. I am not completely above begging, and being forced to hunt while with Lust cannot be considered on the same scale as I was not 'all there' during that episode. Shall I establish the link now? Or do you wish to continue with your verbal questions?"  
  
"Go ahead with it," Snape resigned. Irvan merely nodded and stepped behind him. Without warning sharp points pierced his neck, when he was accustom to that feeling they were withdrawn with similar sensations as his wrist. Part of him was being remove.  
  
"I suggest you go and sleep it off. The discomfort will not last that long, but the adjusting will."  
  
"Where will you be?"  
  
"Here in the forest. Though I might go out and find some new robes," he said, disdainfully looking at the tattered cloth draped over him.  
  
"I will not let you harm anyone from the school or Hogsmede."  
  
"Understood. I made a similar promise to Salazar that I still must keep. Until you call," the vampire left it empty and left deeper into the forest.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Severus snapped out of his flashback as Irvan finished up the story. He had learned far more about vampires after that then he had ever wanted to know. He had lied to Voldemort about the vampire and just refused to tell Dumbledore. But now the situation demanded that Irvan be brought to the surface, a lie rearing its ugly head. Surprisingly, Irvan held no malice against him.  
  
"Severus, was there a reason you did not inform me of the outcome of that meeting?" Dumbledore pressed.  
  
"Yes, there was, Headmaster," he replied silkily as was his nature when pressed with a stressful situation. "But at the moment I no longer recall why." It wasn't a lie. He never knew why. It seemed like the best thing to do at the time.  
  
"I'm still curious as to why you sent him to watch Harry in the first place," McGonnagall spoke for the first time in that conversation. Snape had actually forgotten she was there.  
  
"Minerva," he began condescendingly. "I am certain you are familiar with the Wizards' Bond between myself and James Potter. Well, since I failed to save the father I am forced to live with the Bond including the son." This was not something he was proud of. Failure to repay a debt was humiliating.  
  
"Which brings us to another point. Will Irvan continue his surveillance of Harry?"   
  
Severus failed to see the connection between to two topics but did not pursue. Irvan remained silent on the issue, knowing it was Snape's decision as to what he did. There were times when Severus felt awkward deciding another's fate. He fully believed that a person should be able to make his own decision about his own life. But to an extent he was a hypocrite. Both Voldemort and Dumbledore were allowed to decide for him. "Yes, he will," he answered finally. "But you must understand that once the Dark Lord sees him alive and well, all suspicion will fall on me and we jeopardize everything you have entrusted me with. Not to mention that he already holds some suspicion on me because of Malfoy."  
  
"It will have to be risked," Dumbledore said. Severus felt a wave of resentment rising. Of course the boy was more important than himself. A Griffindor was always worth ten Slytherins. That was the math of the Ministry. His emotion must have been intense because Irvan was looking askance, eyebrow raise.  
  
*If you really want to know than you will have to wait,* he said through the mental link. Irvan lowered his brow and returned his gaze to the Griffindors. Severus usually kept the link blocked and Irvan could only intrude if absolutely necessary, even then it was hard work. He had to knock to enter and sometimes Snape refused to answer the 'knock' leaving Irvan the choice of returning later or barging in. The latter option usually hurt.  
  
"Now, about Harry's belongings," Dumbledore interrupted his thoughts. "I assume they are still at his house?"  
  
"No, they are not. I took the liberty of removing them from his various hiding places," Irvan announced. If anything the vampire was thorough. Reaching into his breast pocket he removed a small tin. "They are all in here. You only need to open it in a large space and everything will return to its proper size." Potter accepted the tin cautiously avoiding contact with the vampire. Not that Snape could blame him. He still found it disconcerting when he was in the same room as the man.  
  
"Well, with that settled, we'll adjourn for the time being because I am certain we all have things that need to be done." Albus Dumbledore, the voice of all things obvious and everything uncertain. 


	5. Chapter 5

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Chapter 5  
  
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Once everyone left the office, leaving Harry alone with the Headmaster, Harry had a sudden desire to know where Irvan had been during the summer. If the vampire had been close enough to bring him to Hogwarts after his dreaming incident, he must have been remarkably close. Not to mention very observant. And now that he knew he was going to be watched he wanted to know where Irvan was going to be. Inwardly he cursed himself for not bring up the question while the man was present. How was it possible to forget something of that magnitude.  
  
He doubted Dumbledore would know, so he didn't ask that, instead he asked, "Sir? Where am I going to be staying for the rest of the holiday?" He knew for a fact that the Dursleys would not want him back after he had left. And he had a sinking suspicion that they would never want him back. The last thought would not have bothered him except that he was not of age and would have to go to an orphanage if something was not done. He would rather brave the Dursleys than have one more similarity with Tom Riddle.  
  
"Here, I suppose, unless we can find another arrangement." Dumbledore's famous twinkle was back in his eyes with a vengeance. "I do not think your relatives would be pleased to have you returned without notice. And it seems that you need to have wizarding care incase your dreams become troublesome again," he added with a sad smile.   
  
"Could I stay with the Weasley's?" he asked tentatively. The answer would be no, and he really shouldn't have asked because he would just put them in danger. But he wanted to visit them again. Mrs. Weasley was the closest he had to a loving mother. With them he felt like he belonged. It was a truly comforting feeling.  
  
"We can ask. I believe with Irvan watching out for you, practically anywhere would be safe. And the Weasleys are fairly isolated from the cities. And if we keep your location a secret then there shouldn't be too much trouble." Dumbledore smiled at Harry's immediate mood change. "Go ahead and write a letter to Ron. I'll be sending one to Arthur and Molly later today."  
  
"Thank you." Harry jumped out of his chair and sprinted to the door. "What day do you want me to suggest?"  
  
The Headmaster chuckled at the question. "Don't worry about it, Harry. I'll cover that in my letter. Just tell your friend that you are going to spend the rest of the summer there."  
  
"OK, thanks," he said rushing out the door to the owlery, before he could even think that he didn't even have a letter or even parchment to write on. He stopped cold when he heard Snape's silkily drawl around the corner. He knew enough to tread lightly around the man. And with his newly gained knowledge he wasn't so certain that the Potions Professor wouldn't snap his head off. Curiosity got the better of him though, and he stayed to listen.  
  
"How could you even suggest such a thing, Irvan?" Irritation evident in the voice. Not being able to see the people, Harry relied on his ability to pick out emotions from the tone. It was not very difficult with most people, but Snape had an uncanny ability to suppress any variation in his voice unless very much outraged. As the incident with Sirius and Pettigrew during his third year, and the one with Fudge just after the Tournament showed beautifully. Especially when compared to his normal monotone drawl during class.  
  
"I am sorry if my desire to keep you alive interferes with your desire to get yourself killed," Irvan responded evenly. Harry couldn't pick out any emotions from the vampire. He supposed the man had more practice at it than Snape. But there was a nagging thought that he read somewhere that vampires had no emotions. He wondered how true that might be. If he learned anything in Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures, it would be those things had feelings to. "You know perfectly well that I cannot force you to do anything, and my suggestions can go unnoticed. I will, however, continue to make them despite you insistence. I fear that if you remain with him any longer, my debt will remain for eternity."  
  
"So you are doing this for your own good." An accusation if he ever heard one.  
  
"Correct. I am a surviver, Severus, but I am also a gentleman."  
  
"So you have told me, but your concern now is Potter. If I had been thinking clearly back then I would have set you up with James."  
  
"You cannot alleviate your debt through me, Severus. I thought we went through this before."  
  
"We did and I know I can't. But he would be alive and I would actually be able to repay him, not be deeper in the hole." That was new. Harry had never really considered Snape's position in failing to repay his life debt to James Potter. "Now if you will excuse me I have work to do." Snape was definitely irritated, bordering on angry. Before Harry could think this over any further he was face to face with the vampire.  
  
"Good morning, Harry," Irvan said revealing the pearly white fangs. Harry back away, momentarily shocked over seeing the tools for death so close. Images from Muggle movies flashed through his head, all showing the vampire joyously sinking his teeth into an innocent victim's neck. "If that is all that is bothering you, I can easily fix it," he added in a tone that could only be described as bemused. Well, that discredited the thought vampires were emotionless. Wiping his hand over his mouth, the fangs now appeared to be the size of normal teeth.  
  
"Are they still there?" he asked, trying to find words to help him in the awkward situation. He did not remember being this scared during any of the times he encountered Voldemort. The Tri-Wizards' Tournament was on a completely different level and could not compare. To that, this was mild.  
  
"Oh yes, they are. It is a simple illusion spell."  
  
"You did it without a wand," he pointed out with sudden realization.  
  
Irvan looked at him for a moment before answering. "I had my wands broken far too many times to keep replacing it. I am old enough now that I have little use for a wand for the simple spells. And I can get along quite easily without magic of that sort."  
  
"So you are a wizard? I thought vampires had a different kind of magic," he said recalling some of the texts he read.  
  
"I am not certain if you can classify us as wizards. But we are able to use wands as a means of concentrating magic," he said thoughtfully as if thinking about it for the first time. "We have a different kind of magic than wizards, most definitely. I am what we call an eccentric," he smile in amusement. "You do not find vampires in possession of a wand unless they are masquerading in the wizarding world."  
  
"Why did you have a wand then?"  
  
"I suppose I had gotten use to one when I was younger."   
  
There was a pregnant pause while Harry digested this new information. "How old are you?" he asked, knowing vampires were pretty much immortal. But he had no idea what their general ages were.  
  
"Around two thousand years."  
  
Harry stood for a moment, stunned. He had thought Dumbledore was old. The man in front of him was far over one hundred times older and barely looked over twenty. He hadn't realized vampires did not age. But everyone agreed they were immortal, except that it was possible to kill them.  
  
"Why are you answering me?" he asked innocently enough, finally gained the courage to ask what he really wanted to know. Eventually he would summon up the courage to ask why the vampire was here in the first place.  
  
"I have no reason not to, and seeing as how I have been appointed your guardian, it seems appropriate that you should know who I am. I do not say trust because even Severus doesn't trust me outside his instructions." There seemed to be a small quirk of his lips at the statement, as if he found amusement in it. It seemed to Harry that Irvan had a very interesting sense of humor that might just apply only to vampires. Why would distrust be amusing?  
  
"I don't understand that. You said you are his. What did you mean?" Harry was fairly certain that Irvan would decline to comment, much less explain. He knew that if he was in a similar position, he would be far to embarrassed to explain.  
  
Irvan looked at him with an unreadable expression. "You are going to want the detailed explanation, I see. Well then, the courtyard is an acceptable location for us to have this discussion. Unless you prefer watching the squid at moments like these."  
  
"No, the courtyard's fine," Harry agreed readily, eager to have an answer. Some instinct told him it was abnormal for a vampire to to be so passive; he thought that was the right word. Maybe it was all the books that were wrong, but something was distinctly unusual about the man before him. In silent conversation with himself, they walked to the courtyard. Harry choose a park-bench to bask in the summer sun before he remembered vampires hated sunlight. "Sorry, I wasn't thinking," he tried to apologize.  
  
Irvan turned his head slightly to regard him. "Direct sunlight will kill younger vampires, especially ones that have been turned. I am merely-- sensitive to it. You should enjoy the sun. I know you haven't had much opportunity back at your relatives' house." Harry blushed in embarrassment. The vampire had definitely been very close to the Dursleys' house.  
  
"Now about your question. I have a feeling this will be similar to the one I had with Severus a few days after the incident," he said softly, walking over to lean against a large willow tree, not the Womping Willow Harry had had so much trouble with. "Do you understand the concept of a Wizards' Bond?" Harry nodded. He knew everything the books to offer which was not considerable. "It's similar to that, deeper in fact. And is not something we vampires are proud of. Hardly anyone knows about the curse the unicorns placed on the vampires, it seems it has existed before the beginning of time. It was that curse Voldemort desired to use.  
  
"I do not know how it works, but strictly speaking the vampire can only extrude unicorn blood with the aid of human blood. Once done, the human blood replaces everything the unicorn blood destroys, thus becoming integrated into the vampire. The more that has to be replaced the more attached to the human the vampire is. Thus a Vampire's Bond is formed. He has been saved and sustained by the human. Harming that human would result in harm to yourself because he is part of you. Say an extension of his body and as such are subject to his whims."  
  
Harry listened stunned. He had no idea such magic existed. He had thought the Impervious Curse was the best anyone could to do to control another being, but this did sound similar to an Impervious. "How is that different from a Wizards' Bond?"  
  
"A Wizards' Bond only connects two wizards in a debt situation. One is indebted to the other. The debtor is in no way controlled by the other, he only feels the need to repay."  
  
"So if you were not indebted to Snape you wouldn't be here right now?"  
  
"Possibly. Considering I choose to create that mental link in order for him to call me if he needs assistance, mainly out of concern for the Wizards' Bond, but I cannot say if I would have done so for merely the Vampire's Bond. Either way, I am here because Severus requested me and I am bound to obey."  
  
"That's why Voldemort wanted you?"  
  
"He wanted the vampires. Not me specifically."  
  
"So none of this is normal for you."  
  
Irvan blinked. "No, it is not. Before I was not so civil with humans, nor did I interact with them other than occasional food and fun. Even if I enjoy their culture and creations. But I would definitely not be answering your questions so calmly. Or thoroughly."  
  
"Do you hate Snape?" That was random, he thought. It is really none of your business.  
  
Irvan raised an eyebrow in consideration. "No. He did nothing but grant my request. If I 'hate' anyone it would be myself, or possibly Voldemort for creating the situation. I believe it is far better to belong to Severus than to Voldemort. I have always dislike senseless killings."  
  
"What?!" That statement alone went against everything the books said. It discredited every text devoted to the study on vampires.  
  
"I am a predator not an assassin," he smirked slightly as if knowing the reason behind the surprise. "If a kill does not satisfy some need for survival than it is senseless. Humans are notorious for that. Extermination on large scales. Insects, vampires, even themselves."  
  
Harry let this sink in. So vampires did not just go around killing people for the fun of it. At least Irvan didn't. He was going to have to revise what he had learned in school. Probably talk to Remus about some of it. And of course he would talk to Hermione. She would love to know the true information. Ron most likely would not care in the least, but you never really knew about him. He did like Defense class.  
  
Finally gaining the curiosity, he asked, "So you are going to be going everywhere with me?" He really wanted to know where to expect the man.  
  
"It appears that way. Though while I do not have to be by your side constantly, it would be a good idea for me to be near."  
  
"How will you do that? It would be rather suspicious if I had a vampire walking around with me."  
  
"That point has not been decided yet. I believe it is up to Dumbledore and Severus to decide how it will be done." Irvan paused gazing into the distance as though listening to something far beyond Harry's senses. "A werewolf and an Animangus. Friends?"  
  
Harry released a grin. "Remus and Sirius. Where are they?"  
  
"Up near the main gate," was all Harry heard before he was running off to meet his Godfather and old Professor.  
  
Eventually he saw the shaggy black dog trotting next to a slightly shabby wizard. Remus and Padfoot, or rather Snuffles. The dog changed his gait to pounce on Harry. "It's good you see you, Snuffles. You've been taking care of yourself, right?" he asked scratching the back of its neck.  
  
Backing away from Harry 'Snuffles' transformed into to Sirius Black. "You know I have, Harry. What are you doing here anyway? Did Dumbledore bring you here just to meet us?"  
  
"I wish. All I could figure out was that I was sick and they brought me here," Harry answered, not wanting to worry his Godfather to much.  
  
"Well, it seems you are doing just fine to me. Hopefully we can catch up on things while we walk up to the castle. There isn't anyone that shouldn't see me up there, is there?"  
  
"Dumbledore, Snape, McGonagall, Promfrey, and Irvan. That's all I know about."  
  
"Who's Irvan?" Sirius asked, becoming deadly serious. Strangers would do that to a wanted man, Harry thought somberly.  
  
"The man that brought me here."  
  
"I assume that that is him behind you," Lupin said, growling slightly. The reaction slightly startled Harry and put Sirius on edge.  
  
Harry turned around and sure enough the vampire was waiting several yard away from the reunion. "Yeah, that's him. I'm pretty certain Dumbledore trust him," he said cautiously. He actually had no idea what Dumbledore thought, but if he agreed with Snape's decision to keep him here then he really had no complaint.  
  
"Really," Remus sounded skeptical. "If you don't mind, Irvan, I would like the opportunity to speak with you," he said cordially but not anywhere near friendly.  
  
"I am sure you do," Irvan replied in the expected icy tones.  
  
"Sirius, why don't you and Harry continue up to Dumbledore and tell him we're here," Lupin suggested strongly. Black glanced between Irvan and Remus trying to figure out what was going on, but in the end steered Harry along the path up to Hogwarts.  
  
"You say Dumbledore trust that fellow?" Sirius tried to pry.   
  
"I think he does," Harry hedged. "I don't know for certain. You can ask Dumbledore when we reach him. What are you and Remus doing here?" he said, steering the conversation towards less controversial.   
  
"Well, Remus is teaching again. Took a lot of persuasion to do it. Both on Remus and the Governors. They seemed to think that he was going to be a threat to the students. After Dumbledore pointed out that no students were harmed by a werewolf that year they reluctantly agreed. Remus was harder to convince. He thought he would be a problem to the students and the reputation of the school. Not even the decision of the Governors would help. Luckily some slight threatening with pranks solved that problem. And I'm here as a precaution against anything that might harm you. As well as my own motive of spending as much time as possible with you. I can't wait to see Snape's face when he finds out," Sirius grinned.  
  
Harry was slower to enjoy the joke. What he had seen of the Potions Master's other life made him sick. But he was not about to explain to his Godfather the level of cruelty Voldemort used, nor Snape's tendencies to be subservient to the monster. Any mention of Severus Snape brought that all back.  
  
"You all right, Harry?"  
  
"Yeah. I guess I'm still a little tired. Nothing to worry about. Pomfrey said I was completely healthy. And you know how hard it is to get her to release you from the hospital," he added in that 'I know all to well' tone used by victim of the same situation. "Guess what! I get to spend the rest of the summer at the Weasleys'. That includes my birthday."  
  
"That's great, Harry. I'll be sure to come visit you. Looks like we've reached the castle, time to be reunited with Snuffles." Harry grinned at the name Sirius took as a dog.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
"What are you doing here?" Lupin bristled. The werewolf within was agitated over the presence of a vampire. "I seriously doubt Dumbledore trusts you."  
  
The vampire Harry had introduced as Irvan and not moved from his position yards away from Remus. "I do not believe that Dumbledore trusts me either. But he trusts Severus. That should be good enough for you." Remus growled and advanced on the vampire. What was the game it was playing? Irvan retreated. "You should be pleased to know that I have promised two people not to harm anyone in association with this school. As such I am unable to defend myself should you decide I am a threat."  
  
Remus halted in mild confusion at the statement. "So is Severus Snape your thrall?" he continued.  
  
"No. If anything it is the other way around."  
  
Now he paused completely. The absurdity of the statement shocked him."Why don't I believe you, vampire?" he spat the last as an insult. He had very little desire to get to know this thing on a real name basis. He had met one too many that wanted to bite his head off.  
  
"You have no reason to. You will allow Dumbledore to explain everything, right?"  
  
Lupin paused. The creature was acting oddly. Every other vampire he had encountered reacted violently towards him. Attacking the threat a werewolf caused, usually loosing the fight. This one was retreating. It must be here on Dumbledore's invitation. Vampires were unable to enter any private property without invitation. This one seemed safe. What a paradox, a safe vampire. The same as a tame werewolf, he added in afterthought. He was unlucky enough to be referred to as such. "We will go see Dumbledore. You first." Even so he disliked the idea of letting the leech out of his sights. 


	6. Chapter 6

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Chapter 6  
  
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Harry sat on his bed in the infirmary, thinking about the day's events. Found out his dreams had the side effect of killing him. Snape 'owned' a vampire. Said vampire was told to keep him safe. Learned things that contradicted the books. Actually had a conversation with a vampire, something he had never considered. The vampire answered his questions, something he never thought possible.  
  
Then Sirius and Remus show up.  
  
He reunited with his Godfather and favorite teacher. Remus has a staring contest with Irvan. Both get enraged when they find out Irvan is a vampire. Things escalate. Sirius nearly pummeled Snape upon gaining the knowledge that he was responsible. Not that that would have stopped him. Remus entered a yelling match with Sirius and Snape. Dumbledore said everything was for the best. Harry was going to Ron's house in a day or so. And finally he had been told he should sleep in the hospital wing just to make sure he could be helped immediately should he have anymore visions. All in all it had been a very interesting day. Laying down he hoped for no more dreams. A very unlikely occurrence.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Sirius Black trotted in to the hospital wing to watch over his Godson. He could not find it in him to trust the greasy haired Death Eater. A vampire was out of the question. James's son was lying on the crisp white sheets breathing deeply, a sure sign of sleep. He jumped on to a nearby bed. To hell with Pomfrey's rule of no animals in the ward, he was protecting his Godson. Curling up he drifted in to a peaceful sleep.  
  
Screams of terror woke him. Without consideration Black transformed into a human and rushed to Harry's side. The boy was thrashing violently and yelling as if possessed. "Harry, wake up!" he yelled at the boy. He tried shaking him, but to no avail. He was thrashing too much to notice the external stimulus. "What am I suppose to do?" he mumbled to himself. "Come on, Harry, wake up!" he tried again. Nothing. Suddenly he didn't care about being caught. "POMFREY!" he yell towards her office. "GET IN HERE NOW!" Seconds later the old nurse was standing in the ward.  
  
"Sirius Black?" she stammered.  
  
"Yes, now help Harry!" he pointed at the thrashing child.  
  
"Right," she said in her medical calm. "Use the fire in my office and call Dumbledore and McGonnagall. Then come back here to help me with the boy," she ordered.  
  
Black didn't waste anytime. He flew into the office grabbed some powder and threw it in. "Albus. Infirmary. Now." Again. "Minerva. Infirmary. Now." Now he waited, hoping the others arrived soon.  
  
"Black, get me the Draught of the Living Death!" Pomfrey called from the ward. Sirius turned to the potions cabinet and searched. It didn't take him long. Poppy had neatly organized it on the potion's use. Exiting the office, he froze.  
  
Irvan was leaning over Harry's bed, clutching the boy by the shoulders. He did not seem to have trouble keeping the boy still. "Allow me to guard the boy's subconscious," it growled menacingly. Sirius was momentarily shocked by the things presence and manner. It looked ready to feed but was making no move to do so.  
  
"Absolutely not," Poppy returned, wand poised in the general direction of the vampire. "I have no idea what that will do to the boy and will not let you touch him." She sounded threatening but would not step closer to the vampire.  
  
"We do not have time for this," came the dangerous growl. "Allow me to guard his dreams," it repeated.  
  
"No." Sirius said firmly. "Get away from him!" Perhaps orders would work. The vampire merely glared at him, the eyes tinged with red and silver. Bloodlust. Sirius could spot that anywhere.  
  
"What's going on here," McGonnagall could not have picked a worse time to barge into a confrontation. Both Irvan and Black focused on her. She faltered.  
  
Dumbledore was behind her. "What is going on?" he repeated calmly.  
  
"Allow me to guard his subconscious," the vampire repeated with a forced breath. Obviously Bloodlust was threatening to overtake him.  
  
"What?" McGonnagall seemed to understand. "Why?"  
  
"We do not have time for explanation. Allow me to do this. I do not have enough strength to bring him back form a near death experience." The situation was obvious but Sirius did not understand why the vampire was on the verge of Lust when it had appeared earlier that it had already feed.  
  
"Not until you tell me what you are going to do to my Godson!" Black was furious. He needed to be in control of this situation and he was failing, miserably. This was his Godson and he had a right to know what was going on and more importantly he had the right to dictate what would happen. The vampire's response was unintelligible, but angry and very frustrated.  
  
"Just say I can."  
  
"Irvan, go ahead," Severus Snape said from the doorway, gaining the attention of the entire room. He was slightly breathless from his dash up from the dungeons. The vampire then proceeded to bite down hard on Harry's exposed neck.  
  
"You bastard," Black yelled at Snape. "What do you think you are doing? Get that THING off of my Godson!" Snape simply shook his head no, scowl plastered on his face. "Why you . . . I'll kill it before it turns him." Oblivious to his surroundings Sirius made to advance on the vampire. Before he could go anywhere he found a viselike grip around his throat.  
  
"You will do no such thing," Snape whispered dangerously. "He is trying to save that brat of yours. I suggest you sit down and wait." With that he released Black and stalked to the other side of the room.  
  
Sirius sent a pleading look to Dumbledore. How could the man let Harry Potter be turned into a vampire? "Sirius, we have no experience with what is happening to Harry," the old wizard said sadly. "Irvan knows what he is doing is going to save the boy. Don't interfere."  
  
"But Harry'll turn," he pleaded. It was weak of him and he knew it, but he couldn't let his friend's only son become one of them.  
  
"I have assurances that Harry will not become a vampire. He'll be fine, Sirius. Try to calm down."  
  
Calm down, he says. Not bloody likely. A vampire was digging its grubby little fangs into his Godson's neck. And he says to calm down! Black began to pace the room, avoiding Snape at all costs. What had the vampire done to them? Was it true that they could control the minds of others? Was that it? He was the first to notice the vampire withdrawing its fangs. He shoved the monster aside, away from Harry. The boy looked peaceful. His mop of black hair damp from sweat, his skin slightly paler. But he looked peaceful. Sirius thought he would cry of relief. Never mind that it was a vampire who did this. The boy was no longer in agony. He looked up, tears welling up in his eyes. He looked up and saw the strangest sight. Snape pointed to the door and the vampire obeyed. At least Snape looked furious as he stormed out. But then when did Snape not look furious.  
  
"Harry's fine, Albus," Pomfrey's voice reached his ears. "He's asleep."  
  
"That is good to hear, Poppy," Dumbledore said. "Now, Sirius. We have to discuss your appearance." At the mention of his name, Black looked up guiltily. Crisis now over, Pomfrey and McGonagall were staring incredulously. He had forgotten that they still thought him an escaped murderer. "Minerva, Poppy, Sirius Black here is the same as the dog Snuffles. He was framed for the murder of those muggles and Peter Petigrew. Nor was he James's and Lily's Secret Keeper. That was Peter. However, now is not the time to delve into details. You must promise not to reveal Sirius's presence here, as he is still being searched for. He is here to protect Harry, not harm him."  
  
McGonagall nodded in understanding. She trusted completely what the Headmaster told her. It was her nature. Pomfrey looked doubtful, but nodded.   
  
Black looked away sheepishly. He had told Dumbledore he would not reveal himself while at Hogwarts. He had broken that promise. Hopefully Albus Dumbledore understood it was for Harry's sake. He transformed and gloomily walked out not knowing where to go.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Red still stained the fangs once they had reached Snape's chambers. "You did not feed from him?" he demanded.  
  
"I did not," Irvan snapped. Frustration had removed all the walls control the vampire had held. He was now entering Lust. The black eyes were turning red, even now close to twenty years later the silver of the unicorn blood still haunted his eyes. The vampire gazed at the floor, knowing he was loosing the battle which built up even more frustration. The man's pride rested on his ability to control his emotions and Hunger. Something most vampires would never have the desire to learn. He hated entering Bloodlust knowing that it was the only time when he lost that control, right now he was straining to retain what little remained. Yes, the mental link did indeed give him an inside view of Bloodlust when he did not shut it out, Snape thought. He had a great understanding that reason shut down and instincts took over.  
  
"The spiders were not enough?" he asked lightly, almost teasing. The trick was to bring the vampire back to the present and the best way for him to do so now was act out of character. Irvan had become use to the severe, reclusive, sarcastic wizard. Might as well shock the creature.  
  
"Not for a day like today," Irvan bit out. "If I had known everything was going to cascade I would have drained some larger animals." The vampire began to pace eager to go out and hunt. Not doing so because he was stuck with Severus. It would prefer humans as they were the most sustaining.  
  
"I am not letting you go out tonight. You might do something you regret." Those two statements were enough to have the predator on him. It was ready to bite when it realized what it was doing. Hastily it drew back. "It appears I am right," he muttered darkly, not daring to think about how close that was.  
  
"What do you expect me to do, Severus!" Irvan yelled, keeping his distance, looking more like that caged animal Snape first saw at the Revel than the 'gentleman' it claimed to be. "I must feed tonight or die in the morning." It was a slight exaggeration. If he remained out of sunlight he would survive, just loose more of himself to his Hunger and retain less of his conscious decisions.  
  
"You will do so within the confines of these rooms," he stated calmly. Unbidden, Severus recalled the times he had fallen to a similar type of rage. Reason was impossible. In association with Lust, the vampire would be little more than a rabid animal. Irvan glared at him, breathing heavily, mouth ajar ready to rip something's throat out. "Before you lower yourself to ask," he continued disdainfully, "it is exactly as it appears. You will feed from me because I can not trust you to keep your promises tonight." He had developed a tolerance for this vampire only because for the last decade and a half the creature had disappeared. And the only other time he had allowed it to feed was that first night.  
  
In a flash Irvan was again breathing down his neck. Snape forced himself to remain still as chilled fingers played tantalizingly along his neck. "Why?" it breathed into his ear. The man was so close Severus could not see his face. He could feel desire course through the vampire. It was so close the sensation radiated off of him. He had never doubted that vampires were extremely sexual creatures.  
  
"Because you have Hunger and I can't trust you with anyone else," he answered stiffly.  
  
"I see," he said, the voice slowly moving down his neck. The difference in its voice was astounding; the harsh, ripping tone from anger and frustration was replaced by the calm and seductive river he was more accustom to. "My promise and the Bond. You are quite safe." Snape felt his stomach clench. He was willingly allowing a leech to feed from him. Cold fingers whispered across his exposed skin afraid to touch. "Will you allow me to . . . enjoy . . . myself?" he added breathlessly.  
  
Snape swallowed his tongue for a moment. "I do not engage in promiscuous sex. Definitely not with vampires," he declared coldly, disgusted with the suggested.  
  
"I never mentioned sexual intercourse," it whispered under his chin. "Though it has been a long time." It was amazing that a near Starved vampire would be a mere bite away from human blood and fail to touch its prey.  
  
"If those are your stipulations," Severus began as he stepped back from the vampire and went to sit in an oversized chair, "then I'll have to reconsider my offer and let you see how long you can survive without feeding." Irvan looked lost for a moment. Hands frozen in midair as though caressing some invisible shoulders.  
  
His head turned, eyes pleaded. Snape no longer tried to look at the man's face to discern his feelings, it never showed anything. The eyes always did. He couldn't control his eyes while in Lust. They were disappointed and pleading. "Twenty years since I have swallowed human blood. Drawing past fifty since I have tasted a human body. That is a very long time for us, Severus. We hardly go a year without one or the other." Time seemed to have forgotten the vampire as he was standing one moment and in the next blink kneeling on the chair, straddling Snape's thighs, once again phantomly touching his skin. "If you do not like the form, I can alter myself. A simple spell can change what you dislike," it pleaded.  
  
"You really aren't above begging," Severus observed. Looking up he gasped. A woman's face had replaced the man kneeling above him. It was still Irvan, the eyes were his. The face was just more slender and delicate. The rest of his body had changed too. Firm breast were protruding from the slender torso. Everything spoke of Irvan, the physical appearance was just different.  
  
"Is this better?" The same deep flowing river that belong to Irvan washed over him. The voice had a decidedly feminine ring, but still recognizable as the vampire he knew. He knew they were sexual creatures but he had not known the extents they would go through to achieve it. The vampire was radiating sexual energy waiting to be released. Were all of these creatures like this? "You find this more appealing," it stated. "Will you allow me to enjoy myself?" it asked again. Its lips were a finger's breath from his own.  
  
"The problem with this is you are already aroused." Severus wondered how he could be so detached in this situation. He credited it in part to his younger years as a Death Eater, before he did an about face and joined Dumbledore. But that was only part of it. As Irvan had said, it has been a long time. "Feed and we'll discuss it." He did not know why he said that. Perhaps he was hoping that once feed, Irvan would not be so inclined to have sex, whether he was posing as a woman or a man.  
  
Gingerly fingertips gave way to whole hands and the vampire was gently pealing back his robes. Frigid palms eased their way around his neck and shoulders, seductively searching for a secure place to grip. Breath abnormally hot for a vampire moisten his skin as it leaned in to suck at an exposure. Sharp bone pricked his skin tentatively. Severus wondered if Irvan was waiting for him to call the whole thing off, given how hesitant the vampire was. When the fangs finally slid under the skin, he convulsed violently. The only thing keeping him in the chair and not throwing the vampire off was its strong grip on his neck and shoulders, and its knees squeezing his thighs together. Thoroughly trapped, he panicked.  
  
Hands started to caress his arms, moving up to his hair and back down. A calming motion that, much to Snape's dismay, worked. A weight had settled on his lap, but his legs were free from the tight entrapment. Time was forgotten and he did not care how long they were like this. One on top of the other, frozen in that moment. If one was to look closely the he would realize one was taking advantage of the other. And if it was a careless Gryffindor, the vampire would be seriously injured by being thrown from its meal, possibly loosing a fang in the process.  
  
Siting back on his heals and therefore Severus's lap, Irvan waited for the wizard to open his eyes. "Well," he purred. Severus opened his eyes to the female guise of Irvan. He shuttered involuntarily as he recall the previous discussion.  
  
"I told you I do not engage in promiscuous sex," he said. It was a whisper but conveyed the closure of the discussion. Disappointed flashed in the hematite eyes and was gone.  
  
"It is not promiscuous if I remain only with you," it tried another approach.  
  
"Perhaps I did not make myself clear on the other point. I will not have sexual intercourse with a vampire. Under no circumstances." He tried to make it firm, but began to doubt his own resolve. He prayed that Irvan would not continue to press.  
  
"Very well," Irvan said, his features morphing back to a man's. He remained on Snape's lap for a few moments, studying the wizard. "Not tonight," and he smoothly rose, towered for a moment and dismounted the chair. Severus had the dreading feeling that the vampire would try this again. Without another word, Irvan glided to the North Bookshelf and stood motionless. Snape was slower rising. Blood loss factoring in, but mainly weighed heavily with confusion. He did still have control over the creature. He was sure of that. But how much persuasion power did vampires' possess. A question for the morning. 


	7. Chapter 7

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Chapter 7  
  
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His first glimpse of the morning was that of a pensive vampire. Severus groaned inwardly. What could the man want now? He had not slept well that night, mainly due to nightmares centering on overgrown leeches. He grimaced That phrase sounded oddly familiar, as if he had used is recently. "What are you doing here?" he asked as harshly as the morning hours would permit.  
  
Irvan took a step back from the bed. "Night terrors," he offered as a way of explanation. He remained watching Snape for anything unusual; his own face remaining unremarkable.  
  
Severus pinched the bridge of his nose as he sat up in bed. "Night terrors," he repeated dully. Obviously his, the creature in his room did not have dreams to speak of. He doubted if they even slept at all. "And what business were they of yours?" he muttered darkly. He had told the man once before never to intrude on his subconscious and expected that direction to be obeyed.  
  
"When they involve you yelling at the top of your lungs every curse imaginable, and directing your ire towards us as a general whole," it responded casually as if waving the whole incident aside as inconsequential. He sounded more in control than last night, but his eyes denoted a strong surge of apprehension.  
  
"Indeed." Snape need some time to think through this. Mostly to try to remember his dreams. He needed to understand why they would have caught the vampire's interest. "Out." He pointed to the bedroom door. Thinking would prove easier without a vampire breathing down his neck. Merlin, that was one experience he never wished to repeat. Hesitantly, Irvan left. He must have been extremely interested in Snape's dreams to have stood over his bed.  
  
He remembered vague points. Vampires, of course. His nightmares were either those or of Voldemort and the actives he had done. Not pretty sights in their own right. Impressions of hatred, nothing new. Horror, somehow felt towards what was happening to the leeches, odd but not entirely impossible. A lot of curses directed at the vampires. Irvan in particular. He had not recalled that upon awakening. Better not to dwell on uncertain topics when dealing with unpredictable creatures. And he effectively closed off any line of thought pertaining to the dream.  
  
Stepping out of the shower, he silently thanked Dumbledore for sending Irvan away with Potter. The last thing he wanted was to interact with the creature anymore than he had to. And that will not include 'feeding' ever again. He suppressed the cold shivers before leaving the bedroom. And he found Irvan pacing along the dormant fireplace.  
  
"Now, about last night," he announced. The startled look was quickly replaced by an aversion of the eyes. Out of shame? Not likely, but he could never be certain. Not with this one. This one was a bit more human than what he considered normal and had actually admitted to having 'human' emotions. Unheard of for most Dark Creatures. "Fifty years?"  
  
Irvan shot him a troubled glance before resuming his pacing. He was lucky vampires tread lightly or there would be a rut in the rug before the day was through. "I was the unlucky recipient of one of Grendelwald's curses," he stated with much disdain and the overwhelming desire to end the conversation immediately.  
  
"Please, go on," Severus sneered dryly.  
  
"As if you would be remotely interested in what would bother a vampire," the answer was tight and angered. He certainly was not in control of all his faculties this morning and Snape wanted to know why.  
  
"Ah, but I am," his tone was mocking but his words sincere; a combination that caused the unflappable vampire to miss a step and Snape did not miss the opportunity to smirk. "Do explain." The look Severus received would have frozen molten lava in an instant. It was nearing twenty years since their last conversation, and there was no point in missing the opportunity to sneer at the creature. Irvan continued to pace, agitated.  
  
"Fine," he finally said, throwing his hand before him in resignation. "Fine, you want to know what's bothering me. Then I'll tell you," he said exasperated. "The curse Grendelwald threw my way has the affect of not allowing me to have sex. Not like you would understand that." Anger was the prominent emotion though others were worming their way to the surface. He thought embarrassment was a close rival. Though the curse did explain quite a lot about his sexual behavior.  
  
"Indeed?" Snape arched an eyebrow. Such a curse exists? "And I thought vampires were in league with Grendelwald."  
  
"We were," he said flatly, fangs still on the offensive. Odd how a minor detail caught his eye. "You couldn't possibly understand," he added reverting to the previous tangent and resumed his pacing.  
  
"Not to the full extent. But you vampires live for blood and sex. I can certainly begin to understand how troubling it must be to have half of your existence ripped away," he replied coolly. What did Irvan do to have Grendelwald take notice with such a punishment? A question that would take an eternity to pry out of the creature.  
  
"You just don't get it," Irvan yelled, almost advancing on Snape. Whatever reserve he had held for his mental state was gone. Severus was trying to figure out if this was because the recent ingestion of human blood into a starving body, or something closer to the man's emotional state he was trying to preserve. "Do you even know how close I came! How close I was to destroying my life! I would have killed you! No. Done worse. Rape you, drain you, then mutilate your corpse. And you sit there drinking tea! Do you have any idea how much I wanted that!"  
  
Nonplused, Severus glared coldly and calmly at the fuming vampire. They were hardly temperamental creatures, but were susceptible to violent mood swings, usually over the trivial matters of sex and food. Never over silly qualms about murder. "If I recall correctly, you were at that state twice last night," he grounded out. Irvan opened his mouth to retort and promptly shut it, eyes smoldering. It was quite true. The first time being in reaction to his declaration of not letting it leave, and the second the moment Irvan bit.  
  
For something that was supposedly dead, he was doing a remarkable job of seeming alive. It was a misconception that vampires were the Dead walking. They were quite alive and able to reproduce outside 'turning' a human or two. Those were brought to the near death state then given the chemicals required to change them. The creatures were abnormally cold to the touch and deathly white due to the small amount of blood running through their veins. They consumed blood because it was the only thing that their sensitive digestive systems could handle. They could take other liquids but those did not provide the needed nutrients. Oh yes, he had learned a remarkable lot from Irvan.  
  
"How can you sit there calmly eating muffins?! If it weren't for those damn Bonds and that curse you would be dead!"  
  
"I can hardly eat muffins in an agitated manner," he responded cooly, sending the vampire into another misstep. It was perhaps the most uncharacteristic comment he had ever said to the man, plus it mocked the other's state perfectly. "Sit," pointing to the chair opposite himself. The vampire glared but obeyed. He was no longer surprised by the man obeying, but he still considered it unusual. Vampires did not do so by nature.  
  
Severus set a cup of tea before the other man. One he had spiked with a calming potion. "Drink." If Irvan suspected anything, he gave no indication. Picking up the china cup he swallowed half. "All of it." Pulling a grimace the vampire downed the rest. Perhaps this would help calm the overly expressive vampire. It could not be healthy for them to be like this. "Now are you ready to don your gentlemanly disposition or should I postpone all attempts at civil conversation?" he remarked snidely.  
  
Irvan's glare had calmed down and was now merely at the level of a glacier. The same gaze he himself was capable of when angered. "This is hardly a conversation that can be civil," he returned icily.  
  
"Good, you are actually trying to make an effort," Severus sneered. Irvan worked at keeping his facial features in a careful mask, failing miserably. He decided now was as good a time as any to brief the man in what he will partake in. "Dumbledore is suppose to tell Potter that he is leaving this afternoon with the Weasleys. No one but myself and Dumbledore are going to know about the arrangements. This is to keep all suspicions off of you. The werewolf cannot scent you while your a spider, correct?" Irvan nodded. "Good. He has also sent a letter to Hagrid about the 'gift' in case those two go asking. Any questions?"  
  
"When did you have this conversation with the Headmaster?" Irvan asked sharply.  
  
"After everyone left his office yesterday."  
  
"I resent being someone's pet," he hissed.  
  
Severus choked on a laugh. "I suppose that is what you will be doing. Have Potter tell you about Peter Petigrew sometime. The rat made quite a life out of being someone's pet. I'd introduce you to the Death Eater but he is far to close to the Dark Lord. Sometime soon an owl will be here to take you as an early birthday present." Peter Petigrew, Wormtail. Unfortunately he had to give create to Black's story now that the rat has made his appearance at the Dark Lord's side. Wormtail was now one of the highest positioned Death Eater in the Inner Circle. Malfoy was still Voldemort's right hand man and Snape had been kicked to the bottom. Trust in him seemed to be waning.  
  
"Charming." The now sullen vampire slouched in his chair. The potion did calm him down, but had placed him in a small depression. Snape should have taken in to consideration the vampire's volatile mood swings and lessen the intended dose. The potion would settle itself in a few hours unless Irvan corrected it himself. Severus sat sipping his tea and contemplating on how to keep Potter from revealing anything he saw through those blasted visions. He wasn't sure how much time had past when there was a fluttering noise near the ceiling.  
  
"Ah, here it is now," he said as a tawny brown owl swooped in from the high open window. In its claws it bore a letter and a box, no doubt containing a cage. Opening it, he gestured at the vampire. "Get in."  
  
"Your bloody well enjoying this," he sulked, staring incredulously at the small wire cage.  
  
"Of course I am. I never did tell you, I found your display that night quite entertaining. Now get in." Irvan grumbled something that Severus could not translate, probably for the best, and transformed into a black tarantula. Hissing at the wizard, it made its way into the small cage. "Think of it this way. At least you are not chained to it." That set the tarantula on a hissing tirade as Snape placed it back in the box.  
  
* * * * * *   
  
Dear Harry,  
  
Thought I'd send this early seeing as how I'll be busy from now 'til well after yer birthday. It's quite harmless. Happy Birthday. Oh and tell Hermione and Ron I say hello.   
  
Hagrid  
  
Harry put the note down. It was definitely from Hagrid, the wild scrawl was unmistakable. He and Ron and the rest of the Weasley tribe, aside from Percy and Mr. Weasley were on the front steps waiting for Dumbledore to send them off.  
  
"So what is it?" Ron pushed, eager to see the gift. Curious as to what Hagrid had sent and why he was so busy, Harry studied the box. Anything Hagrid called harmless had to be looked at closely. Cautiously he opened the box and pulled out the cage with the disgruntled spider. "Hagrid sent this," he said apprehensively.  
  
"He said it was harmless," he quoted the letter doubtfully, studying the hairy black spider. There was a silver shine to its eyes and striking white highlights on each of its eight legs. They were the most unusual markings Harry had ever seen, denoting the spider was some sort of magical creature.  
  
"Then it won't kill you unless provoked," Ron reasoned based on Hagrid's choice of pets.  
  
"That seems to be a general rule."  
  
"So does it have a name," Ginny asked poking at it, causing it to draw back on itself.  
  
"Doesn't say. How about Evan?" He had called a tiny brown spider in his room at the Dursleys that. At least it had been there for a few weeks. Aunt Petunia might have gone to clean out the room after he had left and he hope the thing had gotten away.  
  
"That's boring."  
  
"But it makes the thing less menacing, Gin. At least until you see it."  
  
"Sort of reminds you of Fluffy," Harry quipped, making Ron grimace in remembrance of the giant three headed dog. "I'll call him Evan." The black tarantula somehow look grateful at the decision, at least it wasn't hissing anymore. For some reason Harry's thoughts went back and questioned how that vampire was going to keep watch over him. Probably the same way it had while he was at the Dursleys, however that was. Harry trusted Dumbledore and if Dumbledore trusted Snape when it came to the Creature of the Night, then who was he to question. He still didn't think the Potions Professor deserved to be trusted, not after seeing that despicable display.  
  
"Still say it's a stupid name for a spider," Ginny whined. "Hey, look! A dog!"  
  
Both Ron and Harry turned to where she was pointing. "That's just Snuffles, dear. I believe its a friend of Professor Dumbledore's," Mrs. Weasley explained.  
  
Snuffles immediately left to entourage of faulty following the headmaster and leapt on Ron and Harry, licking furiously. "Cut it out, Snuffles. It's not like I'm not going to see you in a few weeks," Harry said playfully shoving his Godfather off of him.  
  
"Quite so," Lupin said, "We're planning to come visit you on your birthday."  
  
"Great!" It would be his first birthday where he would be able to spend with his Godfather. Still grinning he watched Snuffles went to investigate Hagrid's gift. He obviously did not like what he smelt. Pulling the dog back not wanting his Godfather to be harmed by the spider, he said, "It's just a gift from Hagrid. It's harmless."  
  
"In that case, don't make it mad," Remus jibed.  
  
"That's exactly what I told him. It won't kill you unless provoked," Ron said.  
  
"Then it's a good thing you pulled Snuffles away from it."  
  
"Now, Harry," Dumbledore came in to the conversation. "Do you have everything?"  
  
"I think so, sir. If not I'll just wait 'til I come back."  
  
"Very good. Enjoy the rest of your summer, and be sure to tell us if anything happens."  
  
"Will do. Thanks."  
  
"Fred, George, get Harry's trunk, will you," Mrs. Weasley said. Harry wave good bye to the staff and climbed into the horseless carriage behind Ron.  
  
"Mum won't let you floo back to the Burrow," Ron was saying, "She never could tolerate letting someone who's been sick use the Network. So we're taking the train back to London where Dad is waiting with a car. But you don't mind do you?"  
  
"Of course not. I hate the Floo Network and I don't mind saying so. So, how's Hedwig?"  
  
"She's doing just fine. Misses you, I suspect."  
  
Ginny piped in saying, "I told her you were coming and she was ecstatic. She was almost as crazy as Pig. And that's hard to do."  
  
"Ron, have you spoken to Hermione recently. I'm afraid I haven't been keeping up with everything."   
  
"Yeah, she went to visit Krum earlier in the summer, but will come to visit when we go to get our school stuff. She said she liked Bulgaria, but Krum was slightly annoying, spending most of his days playing Quidditch. I'll let you read some of her letters. We felt bad not being able to send you any owls."  
  
"Don't be. Uncle Vernon probably would have shot any Owl that came near the house."  
  
"You have your Firebolt with you?"  
  
"Of course. You don't think I would pass up a chance to play Quidditch now that I am out of that house."  
  
"Great! Somehow Fred and George managed to buy used Twiggers. They're in much better condition than our old ones."  
  
"Yep," George, or Harry thought it was George, said. "We've been wanting to test them against your Firebolt. The old Cleansweaps are nothing compared to these."  
  
"They were fixed up by the previous owners to perform just as well as a Nimbus 2000. Just think of the mayhem we go do with them," Fred joined.  
  
"Neither one of you are going to divulge in mayhem," Mrs. Weasley broke in. "The damage you do around the house is enough as it is."  
  
"Oh, look, we're at the station," Fred said leaping from the carriage. Harry suspected the quick exit was to avoid answering any awkward questions.  
  
"Yeah," George said, "want to make sure Harry's truck gets on in time." And he was following after his twin.  
  
"Don't know what's gotten in to them," Ron said mounting the platform steps. "The moment you start talking about were and how some of those things they got came into being the go running off. If I didn't know better I say all of it was illegal. But they have receipts for it all."  
  
Harry tried hard no to smile. It seems the Weasley Twins were putting the winnings to more uses than their future prank shop and Ron's new dress robes. He reminded himself to accuse them of buying those brooms for Ron and Ginny to use after they graduated. He wished he had siblings, younger or older.  
  
"Come on," Ron pulled on his sleeve. "There aren't many people on this train. We can grab a compartment for ourselves. Then you can tell me about what happened to you over the summer," he added in a low whisper. Ron had been polite about not demanding explanations until they were alone. Harry was grateful for that. He didn't really want to reveal the truth about everything, but his friend deserved to know more than 'he was sick.' A private compartment was just the place.  
  
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Disclaimer: The 'muffin scene' is taken from "The Importance of Being Earnest." It is not an exact quote but close enough. I thought it would add an amusing little conversation point. 


	8. Chapter 8

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Chapter 8  
  
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Harry was laying in bed musing over his summer. The days he had spent with the Weasleys were the best he could wish for. To them he was just another child. A normal kid. And he was lucky to be friends with Ron and Ginny. He was just part of one big happy family. It was probably as close to heaven as he could get.  
  
He did feel slightly bad about not telling Ron and Hermione the whole truth about his eventful summer. But it just did not seem right to tell them about Snape, despite his promise. Nor would bringing up the fact that Irvan was a vampire going to do any good. So he had left those two out of his story. They did know about Irvan. It was impossible to skip that one. If he was going to lie then he had better make it as close to the truth as he could.  
  
Rising softly, so as not to wake Ron, Harry moved to the window. He was still having trouble sleeping, though he hadn't woken up the household be screaming. That was always good, he supposed. He still wasn't clear as to why, but at least he wasn't causing anyone else to miss out on their much needed sleep.  
  
"Tomorrow Hermione's coming," he said quietly. He had gotten into the habit of speaking aloud when no one could hear him. It help him keep his thoughts together. And it was much more accepted to talk to your pets than to yourself. Harry talked to Hedwig sometimes, but she was not always there when he had something that needed to be said. Hagrid's gift was. He had gotten into the habit of bring the tarantula everywhere. Sort of like Neville and his toad, or Ron and the rat formerly known as Scabbers. "Then we'll go down to Diagon Alley, buy our books, wander around, come back, then leave the next day for Hogwarts." The spider, Evan, was sitting on the window sill. It was almost always there when Harry was in the room. Sometimes it was an the bedside table, much to Ron's disgust. "You are probably getting bored listening to me. I don't know why I talk to you at all. You can't respond. But you are probably the only one who knows how I feel about being the famous Boy-Who-Lived."  
  
It was true. Usually when he talked to Evan, either this tarantula or the little brown thing at the Dursleys, it was about how everyone wanted to see something from him and he didn't know what it was.  
  
"Well, anyway," he continued on a non related topic. "Hermione's had a lot of questions about what you are, so expect to be studied while we're at school. She's a bit of a bookworm. She knows more about me than me. But that's not saying a lot. The entire Wizarding World seems to know more about me than I do. It's not the best feeling in the world when people come up to me and ask to see my scar. And now with the stupid connection to Voldemort, my life has become loads worse." He yawned, feeling suddenly tried. It was not unusual for him to get tired while talking to Even, but it usually took a lot longer. "Good night, Evan," he said trying to stand. He couldn't move though. Dread coursed through his veins as he recognized the comings of a vision. What had Voldemort so worked up over?  
  
His vision swam as he struggled against the coming onslaught. The Dark Lord was standing in the center of a circle of thirteen. The moment the vision became solid all but two masked Death Eaters vanished. Voldemort then simply walked away from them and paused. Harry was wary of the strange calm that was overshadowing the rage.   
  
"Lucius, make sure the Ministry does not change its position on my return." Voldemort then waved dismissal. Malfoy Disapparated. "Wormtail, bring them out." Petigrew scampered away leaving Harry staring after him trying to make sense of what was occurring. Abruptly, his contemplation was interrupted by the return of Wormtail hovering two bound and gagged figures.  
  
Harry gasped. The woman was old Mrs. Figg. Why would Voldemort want her? She was a harmless, though eccentric, old lady with far too many cats. "Where is he?" Voldemort hissed.  
  
"I don't know," Mrs. Figg responded defiantly. Not afraid in the least of the white faced, red eyed creature leaning over her. Harry cringed prematurely. His other experiences with this lead to application of the Cruciatus Curse and a whole new world of pain.  
  
As predicted, Crucio was uttered and the victim was screaming and withering in pain. "Now, answer me with the truth." Mrs. Figg glared at him as best as she was able given to her agony. "Very well," he grinned. Turning his wand on the man beside her, the grin morphed in to malicious glee.  
  
"No, don't!" Mrs. Figg cried out. "He doesn't know anything! He's just a Muggle."  
  
"As though that would hinder me. Crucio," he said lazily. The man withered in torment. It was a sicking scene. Having been through much the same, Harry sympathized. Then belatedly he realized he couldn't feel the man's pain. Not like he usually did. This time it was muffled. Distant. He knew it was there, he felt it there, but it wasn't a part of him. His scar didn't pulse in rhythm with their screams. It didn't provoke him into joining the chorus. He was just a bystander with sympathy pains.  
  
Voldemort kept the Curse on until the man was choking and gasping through the blood gushed up from his abused lungs. He lifted it for a moment of consideration. Then applied it again. This time until the man was dead. It didn't take long. Harry was disturbedly grateful.  
  
Slowly the imaged faded out and Harry found himself in a black abyss. He had been here before. It was the place he waited for the visions to become dreams and dreams to become visions. It was the only place Harry did not feel anything. In a word, it was peace.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
"Hey, Harry!" the voice drifted into his subdued consciousness. "Wake up! Come on, we're leaving for Diagon Alley today. And your going to sleep through it." It was Ron, shaking his shoulders in attempt to wake him up.  
  
"I'm up, I'm up," he mumbled. His head felt full of cotton, it didn't hurt but it felt strange. "We're leaving so soon?" he managed.  
  
"Soon? It's almost nine and we promised Hermione to meet her at ten. And you ask if it's soon?" Ron stated shaking his own head. "Come on, if you want something to eat before we leave." Ron left Harry alone and slowly he rolled out of bed and got ready for the day ahead.  
  
"Come on, Evan," he said lightly picking up the spider. "Who knows, you might even like Diagon Alley." The tarantula just curled in on itself and allowed Harry to place it in his pocket. Running down stairs he spotted Ginny. "So what's for breakfast?" He asked.  
  
"Don't know what's left," she replied. "Fred and George plowed through it so fast. But I'm sure Mom will make you something." She disappeared into her room to get ready for a day of shopping.  
  
Harry shrugged and continued down the stairs. "Morning, Mrs Weasley," he called as he entered the kitchen.  
  
"Morning, Harry," she returned kindly. "You'll be wanting something to eat, I suppose. Well, don't touch anything on the table. Merlin knows what Fred and George have done to it. I'll get you a fresh plate." Molly Weasley busied herself with piling bacon and toast and other breakfast items while he took a seat across from the suspicious looking twins. They were whispering together in conspiratorial tones. "Here you are, Harry. Hurry up so we can get to Diagon Alley before the big rush."  
  
He all but wolfed down the meal so they could leave all the sooner.  
  
* * * * * * * * *  
  
"Hermione!"  
  
"Ron! What took you so long?" the fizzy haired witch demanded while she managed to successfully stalked towards them.  
  
"Nothing much. Harry just woke up late," Ron supplied.  
  
"Anything wrong, Harry?" Hermione sounded very concerned.  
  
"Nothing really. Just went to bed late. Nothing to worry about." But Harry was worried. He had forgotten to send an owl to Dumbledore about the dream. He needed to tell the Professor that Mrs. Figg was in trouble, but he could worry his friends about it. They didn't need to bother with that sort of thing.  
  
"That's good. Did you bring Evan with you. I've been researching as much as I can about magical spiders and most of what I found was on the type Aragog is. I know you described the markings but maybe there is something defining that you left out."  
  
"I very much doubt that," Ron said shifting slightly away from the spider. "The amount of time you two spent describing that thing was immense. I very much doubt you missed anything."  
  
"You just don't understand research, Ron," Hermione retorted. Ron backed away from her glare. When the girl got on a rant about studies it was best just to shut up and listen or ignore it. Ron choose to ignore it. "Every little detail matters when trying to identify a species. Oh, there he is." She was cut short as Harry pulled the black tarantula from his pocket. The thing would probably like to sit on his shoulder now that they were out of the floo. "I don't think I ever read about this. I would have noted it because they are so unusual. Where did Hagrid say he got it?"  
  
"He didn't."  
  
"Odd. Well it is definitely magical. Markings like this just don't exist on regular spiders. I checked all the books available at my public library. I even asked my father if he could take me to the university's. Perhaps Hogwarts will have something I couldn't find there. Do you mind if I hold him?"  
  
"Not at all. Though he might want to ride on your shoulder."  
  
"Then it is a good thing that I left Crookshanks with my trunk back at your house, Ron. You're father was nice enough to take it back with him. So what are we waiting for, let's go to Flourish and Blott's and get our books. Is Professor Lupin really returning this year?"  
  
"That's what he said."  
  
"This will be great. Someone who knows what he is taking about and is on our side."  
  
"What more could you ask for," Ron joined in. "Someone who will actually counteract everything Snape does."  
  
"Ron! He is a teacher at the school."  
  
"Yeah. An ugly, evil one at that."  
  
"Ron." Hermione did not add anything because they had arrived at the store. After getting the Standard Book of Advanced Spells I, Standard Advanced Potions I, and the yearly upgrade in Transfigurations, they wandered around to find the defense books. Remus had picked some interesting titles. The Theory on Evasion and Why They are Illegal. Those two books did not sound at all like normal text books. He could guess that they were not going to study creatures anymore and focus more on spells. Especially the Dark ones. He dreaded the thought that they might have it with Slytherins.   
  
"Hey, Ron. Did you see where Hermione went?"  
  
"Towards the back. Why?"  
  
"Well, we have all the books from back here. The rest are up near the counter. I was just going to ask if she was ready to leave."  
  
"Don't think so. The backs is full of books with old published dates. Probably wanted to browse a bit. It'll take us forever to get her out of there."  
  
"You're right. Let's go try anyway." Harry could honestly say he had never been this far back in the book store. Mostly likely because he had had no purpose back here. All of their school books were brought to the front or were recent publications. "Hermione? Where are you?"  
  
"Over here."  
  
"That's helpful," Ron said.  
  
"Behind the bookshelf."  
  
"Which one?"  
  
"Oh, just try one. I'm trying to read."  
  
"That's nothing knew," he mumbled. They turned down an aisle in the direction of her voice and found her sitting on a ladder reading some large tome. "What did you find?"  
  
"I was looking for books on magical spiders and found this instead. You might find it helpful. It's written on a level even you could understand."  
  
"What is it?" Harry asked, ignoring the jibe on Ron's reading skills. He honestly wanted to know what Hermione found interesting.  
  
"Potions and Their Failures or How to Ruin a Potion without Fireworks."  
  
"That's the title?" Ron asked skeptical.  
  
"Yes. Written by someone named S.O.S. Though I don't have any idea why someone would want to publish under their initials."  
  
"They were probably to young to publish," Ron answered to Hermione's great surprise. "What? It has been done. And you only hear about those that were caught."  
  
"Why is that?"  
  
"They only want to publish texts that are reliable. And to the Ministry if you are below the age of twenty-five you are not reliable. So publish under a pen name. Or get someone else to to so."  
  
"How do you know all of this?"  
  
"My Dad likes to talk about it because he doesn't think there should be an age minimum."  
  
"Wonder who S.O.S. could be?"  
  
"Any number of people. When was it published?" Harry asked.  
  
"Says seventy-six. So not to very long ago."  
  
"May I?"  
  
"Sure," she said handing the book over.  
  
Harry studied the cover for a few moments. It had a picture of a firecracker being tossed into the cauldron and exploding. On opening it, he determined it was written so that children in their school years could easily understand it. The first potion was the Shrinking Potion. It said:  
  
The Shrinking potion is all but impossible to get wrong. Of all of the combinations that would ruin the potion, you would either get an inert goo or three other types of potions, which are in their own right mistakes of others. One is an explosion potion. This will occur if you add twice the amount of shriveled figs with an inadequate amount of heat and movement. It has the consequence of exploding small areas of bionic matter. This includes wizards. It is not deadly but will cause sever discomfort if applied on the skin.  
  
The description was punctuated with a moving picture of some poor boy being splattered with the potion and breaking out in boil like lesions. Disgusting to say the least but it held promise to be helpful. He decided to buy it just for the fun of it.   
  
He looked up only to find Hermione and Ron glued to another huge book. The title was extremely boring, The Science of Identification of the Known Magical Creatures by Herman Tudunk. He did not even bother with asking why it was so interesting. If something that huge did not contain what they were looking for then he suspected Hagrid had found a new species.  
  
"Find anything?" he asked over their shoulders.  
  
Ron glanced up quickly at the shock of being caught reading. "Just a book on magical creatures. The author seems to have the same liking for dangerous things as Hagrid, I bet those two would get along great."  
  
"They can't, Ron. Didn't you read the publish date. This was written in 1789. Herman Tudunk would be dead."  
  
"That doesn't mean you can't speculate."  
  
"Are you going to get it?" Harry interrupted.  
  
"I don't know. It's an old book and I'm sure it costs a lot."  
  
"We can always ask."  
  
"You aren't getting that book, are you?" Ron said in the direction of the potions book.  
  
"Why not? I'm sure it could be useful. And not only with making sure we don't make those mistakes. Just think about being able to sabotage Malfoy's potion."  
  
"Harry," Hermione scolded. "It is not right to do something like that."  
  
"True, But at least we can get back at him for ruining half of Neville's potions. And I would like to find out who S.O.S. is."  
  
Turning to leave they ran into a clerk entering their aisle. "Good morning," he said. "May I help you? Not many customers venture back here. Ah, I see you have Tudunk's work. Probably one of the most prominent identification texts available."  
  
"Really?," Hermione stated. "Does that mean it is still being printed?"  
  
"Of course. There was an update just a few years ago by a relative of his. Of course the book is still under Tudunk's name. You'll probably be wanting that edition, so lets put this one back. Do you have any specific question you want answered or are just generally interested? If you don't mind me asking?"  
  
"No not at all. We were hoping to identify this little guy," Hermione said gesturing to Evan.  
  
"Can't say I've seen anything like that. But if it is known than it will be in Tudunk's book. Ah, here we are. Tudunk's Second Edition. 1979. Odd, I thought it was more recent than that. Oh well. Will that be all?"  
  
"We still have the rest of our schoolbooks, but they're up at the front." 


	9. Chapter 9

_____________________________________________________  
  
Chapter 9  
  
_______________________________  
  
"Was it her?"  
  
"Yes." The answer was sharp and not at all called for, but Dumbledore ignored the tone and went to the more important task of trying to figure out why.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"He is actively searching for the boy and made the connection with him and Arabella Figg. Fortunately she knew nothing about Potter's situation, but the Dark Lord doesn't take too kindly with ignorance. And there was not an opportunity to interfere. She'll be found dead in her home on Privet Drive." Severus actually sounded melancholy as he reported. That in itself was a rare event and not to be discounted. The man most likely felt responsible for the woman's death. Felt responsible in a situation he could not have controlled.   
  
"This is disturbing news," Dumbledore replied thoughtfully. "Voldemort should not have known where to find that location. By all appearances there is someone among the Death Eaters betraying us. Though it is obvious he is not privileged to sensitive information." He sat silent for a few moments, considering.  
  
It was impossible for the informant to be Severus. His history did not merit a double cross, but with Voldemort's tactics of gaining information, everything had to be considered. Though, should that be the case, why only ask for Arabella's location? Why not just go immediately to Harry's location? Unless the informant did not know the location. Which Severus knew. Not that he ever would suspect Severus of such a deed.  
  
Albus looked up from his musings and found his Potions Professor staring off into the fire, lost to his own thoughts. "Is there anything else you wish to add, Severus?" he asked quietly, not wanting to startle the young wizard too much.  
  
"No, sir," he answered readily. Perhaps his formality stemmed deeper than the desire not to get close to anyone. Perhaps it was a way for him to remain in control despite crushing circumstances. The poor man must live in constant fear due to his position. If only that position was not so necessary. Perhaps then the formal outer shell could fall away, though Albus doubted the man would allow such an integral part of his daily life slip away without a fight, if at all.  
  
It was a shame the Potions Master never allowed people to see past the corse exterior. The man had such an amusing sense of humor. It was the dry wit only an aristocrat, a well educated and highly sarcastic one, could conceive. Unfortunately Severus had a darker wit than most. Still it was refreshing not to listen to run of the mill gossip that is always floating around.  
  
"So, how is Harry finding the arrangement?"  
  
"As well as can be expected when he is not informed of the situation," Severus let a subconscious feral grin slip across his face. He had been the one to suggest the set up. Probably only to annoy both Harry and Irvan. Dumbledore had wanted to inform Harry before the spider was placed in his 'possession,' but Severus nulled that idea quickly. Saying if Harry knew he would tell his friends and somehow people who had no business knowing would find out. Namely Sirius and Remus. More than likely the wizard had just wanted to see their faces when everything came to light, And Albus had desired to see the vampire's reaction to hear about his placement. It wasn't every day you get the opportunity to surprise them.  
  
"So he is enjoying his holiday."  
  
"As far as I know," Severus answered frowning at some thought. At least the man was not imploring him to refrain from that line of questioning. "Thankfully, Irvan does not feel it is necessary to keep a detailed report on the boy's emotional state. If that is all, Headmaster," he concluded rising from his chair.  
  
"Yes, yes. Of course," Albus smiled. "I wouldn't dream of keeping for your work too long." It was one of those things that could always be expected. Severus was a man of patterns, except when it came to his mental reasoning. Snape nodded in recognition and swept out of the room. He smiled again. It was impossible to deny that those robes gave him the appearance of a bat. Popping a lemon drop into his mouth, he wondered how that rumor began. The matters of Arabella would be sorted out eventually, once they had better information than speculation.   
  
* * * * * * *   
  
"Hey! Ron! Harry!" A familiar double image sprouted from the crowed streets. "Oh, hi, Hermione," Fred said casually. Or as he like to be known, Gred. The mirror image was right behind him, going by the name of Feorge. Harry hadn't seen the two of them much over the summer. They had been occupied with the Wealsey Family Secret and Harry had no desire to ruin it. Outside their mock Quiddich games the twins were nowhere to be seen. But now they were laden with far more parcels than normal school supplies.  
  
"Ready to go back?" George asked.  
  
"Why now?" Ron sounded slightly annoyed. He still hadn't figured out what was going on behind the twins closed doors.  
  
"What? Does our little Ronnikins not want to see the little surprises he have?" Fred was definitely better at the worried mother voice when it came time to humiliate Ron.  
  
"Like surprises from you are of the pleasant sort."  
  
Harry stifled a laugh. When the twin did emerge from the depths of the experimenters' lab, it was always to test some new product and with Percy away most of the day, Ron was the next likely target. Even then, none of them knew exactly what was going on. The pranks seemed to be of their old variety.  
  
"Ahh, come on," George whined. "You can put up with one more. After that we promise never to pull a prank on you"  
  
"Unless you already know about it."  
  
"And all other surprises will be the harmless kind."  
  
"Is it a deal?"  
  
Ron shrugged. It was impossible to turn down an offer such as that. When the twins reverted to the semi-puppy dog faces they were impossible to refuse. Which Harry supposed was the whole point.  
  
"So," Hermione said, joining the conversation. She may not appreciate the twins' line of work, but she had a curiosity streak a mile wide. "What is this all about?"  
  
"Come on, and we'll show you." George grabbed Ron's arm and Fred took hold of Hermione's arm, leaving Harry to follow behind as they plowed through the river of wizards. Harry wished he knew what was going on, but he had a feeling that the surprise was of the sort that he was behind. The Weasley twins had so far kept their promise and Harry's name never was once mentioned when conversation was concerned with their projects.  
  
"Now, what is this surprise you are so intent on giving?" Ron asked once they were all back at the Burrow.  
  
"Have you no sense of timing?" George chided.  
  
"Of course he doesn't," his brother remarked. "Now we must give the lady hers first. Don't you agree?"  
  
"Of course. Now which on is it?"  
  
"I think it's that brown one over there."  
  
"They're all brown."  
  
"Then I can't be wrong."  
  
"Of course you can."  
  
"You can't prove that the one I was pointing to was the wrong one."  
  
"I think we had better let them sort this out before we get some really nasty surprise," Harry whispered to his friends. "I don't know about you, but the thought of them getting it wrong scares me."  
  
"I'm inclined to agree with you, Harry," Hermione said, bringing Evan out of his hiding place in her purse. "I definitely don't want to get a box of Canary Cremes by accident." Quietly they backed out into the living room, not wanting to draw attention from the Dynamic Duo.  
  
"Harry, do you know something we don't?" Ron asked, and the black mop of hair swung with his negation.  
  
"Ah, Harry, there you are," Mr. Weasley came in, looking his cheerful self. "A letter arrived for you while you were at Diagon Alley," he said handing him a piece of parchment. "Hope you had a good trip. But it is really time for me to get back to work, now that you are all here. Tell Molly for me that I'll be home in time for supper. And Ron, make sure your brothers don't get into too much trouble with your mother. There's no telling what they got today. Have a good day," he said as he swept pass them to the fireplace and flooed to his office.  
  
"Wonder what happened at the Ministry? Dad never leaves without telling Mum. Knowing him," Ron sulked, "we won't find out until it's out in the Daily Prophet. So, who's the letter from?"  
  
"Don't know. Haven't opened it yet."  
  
"You would think you could be a little more observant," Hermione pointed out.  
  
"Gee, you don't have to get so mad with a little prompting."  
  
"It's from Professor Dumbledore," Harry said, opening the letter. Why would he be sending a missive to him so close to the start of the term? Unless something terrible had happened.  
  
A loud yowl interrupted him train of thought for a moment while a large white cat launched itself on Hermione. "Crookshanks. You have been a good cat while we were gone?"  
  
"Bloody annoying cat," Ron muttered. Probably never forgave the mess it caused their third year.  
  
Harry returned to the paper. Let them work out their problems with the cat. He read the letter and after the first line he could not continue.  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
I regret to inform you that Mrs. Arabella Figg was found dead today in her home on Privet Drive.  
  
His eyes stared blankly at the words before him without really knowing what they saw. If only he had gotten word to Dumbledore. It was his fault all of this happened. He should have sent a letter right after the dream, like he normally did. But no, he had fallen asleep and sent nothing. How could he have been so selfish. Sleeping when he could have helped. It was like Cedric all over again. He had just watched and did nothing. His fault. It was always his fault.  
  
If he was going to have the stupid link to Voldemort he might as well use it. But he couldn't even do that. He was useless. That one simple word encompassed everything that could be said.  
  
"Crookshanks!" Followed by a loud crash of what could have been glass broke Harry's concentration. Probably for the better, he thought. Turning from the offending document, he tried to figure out what was going on.  
  
"Come on, Crookshanks! It's just a bloody spider!"  
  
"Ron! How could you say such a thing! Crookshanks, stop it!"  
  
He looked just in time to watch a white streak of fur pounce on a bookshelf, sending the little artifacts flying. He couldn't see what the cat was chasing, but it was certainly persistent. Something black skirted its way to a large chest and scouted under it. It was a short flight, but Crookshanks had made a large mess of broken glass and cascades of books. And at the moment he was pawing for the object of the chase under the piece of furniture.  
  
"Oh my," Mrs. Weasley said coming to investigate the noise. "What on earth happened here?" Her voice held the no nonsense tone that always presented itself when she demanded explanations.  
  
Ron and Hermione looked sheepishly at the stout fiery redhead. Harry was always glad when he was not the subject of her righteous anger.  
  
* Bloody cat. *  
  
"Well, um, . . . Crookshanks got excited over seeing Evan," Hermione explained as was her nature. "I don't know what got into him. When he saw Evan he just went berserk."  
  
* Blood and bloody ashes! Go away already. * The strange voice repeated. Harry stared dumbfounded in to nothingness. Was he going insane already? Hearing voices? But this voice wasn't like the basilisk. This was as if there was someone in his head. * If you want to play rough. So be it. To think that I would have to deal with a crazed and mental feline. Stupid cat. *  
  
Crookshanks let out an ear piercing screech and beat a hasty retreat behind Hermione. "Your spider bit my cat," Hermione said aghast.  
  
"Well, it was your cat's own fault." For some reason he did not sound anger or annoyed in the least. Probably due to the foreign entity taking residence in his brain. And to think Voldemort was enough.  
  
* Deserved it, damn cat. *  
  
"Harry, are you alright?" Leave it to Molly Weasley to bring concern back to the humans.  
  
"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm alright. Just the letter was a bit of a shock."  
  
"Nothing happened, did it, dear?"  
  
"Er . . ." How did one put this? "Professor Dumbledore wrote saying Mrs. Figg was dead." Such eloquence.  
  
* Blood and ashes. *  
  
"That's horrible. Do you need anything, Harry?"  
  
"No, ma'am. Thank you, though." Merlin he sounded tired. What was he going to do now?  
  
"Uh, I guess now is not a good time," Fred said somberly. "We'll just wait until we get on the train tomorrow."  
  
"Sounds like a plan," George agreed immediately. "See you around dinner time." And the two disappeared upstairs, packages and all.  
  
"Ron, I think it would be best if you were to leave Harry alone for the moment," Mrs. Weasley suggested. "Harry, if you need anything I'll be in the kitchen."  
  
"Uh, thank you, Mrs. Weasley." He did not see any of the others leave the room, but he was glad that they did. He still had a letter to read and if the first sentence was anything to go on then it was just going to be more bad news. Not to mention the strange little voice that popped into his head so suddenly.  
  
* Next time I meet up with that cat, I am not going leave it at a simple bite. *  
  
Well, there was no option at figuring out who or what it was until he asked it. Though, given the topic of the curses, if the voice wasn't Evan, than he'd announce in front of the entire school that Snape was his favorite teacher. Satisfied that that incident was one hundred percent unlikely, he went for a question and thought it directly at the voice. * You're Evan, aren't you. *  
  
* What! This was not suppose to happen. Definitely impossible. There is absolutely no way for you to possibly be able to communicate with me. * Was it him, or did the little voice sound confused, shocked, and not just a little annoyed.  
  
Harry sat down hard and nearly missed the edge of the nearest chair. * You are Evan. * Just brilliant. Now not only did he have to worry about Voldemort taking over his mind at all hours of the night, he had a suspiciously and deceivingly innocent creature as a gift from Hagrid that he could now communicate with and he had no idea how or why that got started. He felt slightly better knowing the spider was just as clueless. * You can talk *  
  
* I can think. Just because creatures such as myself can't talk as humans doesn't mean we are not intelligent. * Great an annoyed and sarcastic tarantula.  
  
* Sorry. I didn't mean it that way. * And now he was apologizing to it. He didn't think it would be the wisest decision to tell Ron or Hermione. He would be put into St. Mungo with no questions asked. * It's just a shock to find out. *  
  
* Agreed. * The black and silver tarantula came out of his hiding place, not at all acting pleased. * And here I was thinking nothing could go wrong. *  
  
* What do you mean by that? *  
  
* Nothing that concerns you. * it snapped. Well, Harry decided, it was one thing to have a pet and a completely different one to have a pet that talked back to you.  
  
* Uh, so what do we do now? * No sense in making it angry. Who knew, it might be able to transform into some scary monster and attack.  
  
* I don't know. This has never happened before. Though you should finish reading that letter. * And now he was getting advice from a spider. Could his life get any weirder? But he did go back to the letter.  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
I regret to inform you that Mrs. Arabella Figg was found dead today in her house on Privet Drive. Investigations are under way as I write. Unfortunately we both know who performed this cruel act. You must understand that there was nothing in your power that could have aided the situation. So do not blame yourself for anything.  
  
Secondly I would like to bring to your attention that Snuffles will not be present on the first few days of the term as I need him for an important assignment.  
  
Do try to enjoy what is left of the holidays and I look forward to seeing you on the first of the term.  
  
Albus Dumbledore Headmaster of Hogwarts School or Witchcraft and Wizardry et. al.  
  
He was right. It wasn't good news. But where would Sirius need to go. He had too many questions with no answers so the best thing he could do at the moment was stop asking questions. Like that would work. Dumbledore had told him that there was nothing he could have done to help Mrs. Figg. Did that mean he knew about the old witch without him sending an owl? If so, how? Did Snape know something about it? Why didn't he do anything to stop it? If he didn't know, how did Dumbledore find out about it? More importantly, was Snape still a trusted member of the Death Eaters? And was that a good thing?  
  
He decided that it wouldn't do any good to send an owl to the Headmaster. Those sort of questions needed to be voiced in person and it was unlikely that Dumbledore would answer them anyway.  
  
Time slipped passed him unnoticed and unhurried. When he did begin to notice, Evan was missing, but that was far from unusual and he was hearing more noise in the kitchen than just Mrs. Weasley preparing supper.  
  
"Arthur, how dare you leave without telling me first. Making Ron tell me was worst than you forgeting completely." Mrs. Weasley sounded concerned and exasperated. He was thankful that he had learned how to read emotions. And Ron's mother was fairly easy as she kept them all at the surface.  
  
"Now, Molly. It was an emergency. The Aurors found Arabella and Albus needed someone to look after the happenings at the Ministry. He seems to suspect that someone is spying against us." As calm and collected as Mr. Weasley sounded, the undercurrent of emotion bordered on outrage. And justly so. No one was happy when they suspected a rat.  
  
"That's terrible."  
  
"It just gets worse, Molly. Minister Fudge wants to question Professor Snape. Seems to think he might know something about this."  
  
"How did you find this out?"  
  
"I talked with Percy. He is more than eager to inform people of Fudge's opinion."  
  
"But why would he want to question that man. Surely Professor Snape wouldn't be fool enough . . ."  
  
"I don't know, Molly," Mr. Weasley interrupted his wife before she could insult the Hogwarts teacher. "Fudge seems to have a grudge against Snape. Maybe he is the only Death Eater he is willing to admit to."  
  
"But you said yourself that Snape would never . . ."  
  
"I know I did. And I am not the one who suspects him. Dumbledore is doing everything he can to keep the Ministry out of Hogwarts' business."  
  
"There's something else, isn't there."  
  
"He wants to take away Remus's teaching license."  
  
"He can't do that! Only the Governors can do that. And they were the ones who gave it to him in the first place."  
  
"It appears the Minister wants to forget that clause. He also wants to question Remus about the leak."  
  
"Impossible. He's always been on our side. He can't want to question him because of a few suspicions over a decade ago."  
  
"He does and I won't be surprised if he succeeds in securing both for questioning."  
  
"I can't believe it. Granted Snape made his share of mistakes and is just a nuisance, but surely they can take Dumbledore's word like they did last time. And poor Remus. He's done nothing." She seemed an the verge of tears as he spoke of the werewolf.  
  
"I know. As I said, Dumbledore is fighting it every step of the way. You remember how they took Hagrid away. If the Ministry gets its mind set on something there is very little Dumbledore can to to interfere without risking his own removal."  
  
"But it's just not fair, Arthur."  
  
"I know. I talked with Percy while I was there. He said he met Remus while they were trying to give him his license. He said he saw nothing that would make the man suspicious except for the fact he was a werewolf. And the fact that the man himself didn't want to be a threat to the children should be enough to convince them he means no harm. You know Percy. If he has an opinion in his head it is very hard to persuade him otherwise. I have a feeling he will attempt to fight for Remus."  
  
"But what about Snape? Surely he is fit enough to trust."  
  
"I believe so, but Percy and Fudge do not."  
  
"This is just one big mess."  
  
"Agreed."  
  
Harry backed out of hearing range. Today had just been a bad day was the understatement of the year. The Ministry wanted Remus? Was Fudge insane? Of course he was, he shouldn't have even asked that question. Why Remus? Probably only because he was a werewolf. The prejudice against them was extremely high.  
  
Supper would have some interesting topics, should Mr. Weasley decide to inform them of recent events. Which he realized quickly would not come to pass, as the rest of the redheaded clan and Hermione came down for the meal.  
  
"Hermione, is Crookshanks alright?" he asked. He didn't want to be responsible for the cat's death. Not that he could have done anything about Evan in the first place.  
  
"He's fine. Most scared, and I think the bite is a little sore, but nothing to worry about."  
  
"That's a relief."  
  
"Makes me wonder though, what have you been feeding him?"  
  
"He pretty much takes care of that himself."  
  
"He won't eat normal food," Ginny said. "I tried one day and he ignored it completely. Though I have seen him out in Mum's gardens."  
  
"So that's why the garden-gnomes have been slower this year," Mrs. Weasley said as she placed the dishes on the table. "Probably the best thing that has happened to that garden in years. Must thank Hagrid for me, Harry."  
  
"Of course, Mrs. Weasley," he replied quietly, not really ready to engage in conversation about the tarantula. Just the thought of the arachnid was enough to put him out of sorts. Animals were just not meant to talk back.  
  
Supper was the usual noisy affair, but Harry wasn't expected to participate. He was busy thinking over everything that had happened today. Mainly Mrs. Figg and Evan. Those two had cause major disruptions in his life so far. The only one who was worse was Voldemort. He really needed to stop attracting trouble. Professor Snape was right about that. 


	10. Chapter 10

_____________________________________  
  
Chapter 10  
  
__________________________  
  
The Platform 9 3/4 was crowded as expected for the return of the students. Harry walk beside his friends pushing his trolly, thinking on how this year might be filled with unasked for excitement. Four years without fail. It was the sort of thing that occurred in stories. And he was far form those. He just wanted a normal life. Something that had nothing no do with anything related to stories. He just wanted to read about the adventures of others.  
  
"If anything," Ron was saying, "We haven't met Malfoy yet. Maybe we won't have have to deal with him for awhile."  
  
"That's unusual for you, Ron," Hermione said from the other side of the Weasley. "I always thought you looked forward to your run ends with him." Harry looked up and saw confusion grace Ron's face. It wasn't a stranger to that visage, practically any attempt Hermione made at a joke resulted in confusion or anger. Mainly confusion. And Harry thought she was doing it on purpose. "So Harry, you've been awfully quiet today."  
  
"Just thinking about the school year," he shrugged. * I really should have dropped Divinations. *  
  
* And what is wrong with that class. * Harry started slightly. He hadn't expected Evan to respond. Of course it would take more than one day to get use to having a voice in your head.  
  
* All Trelawney does is predict my death. And every year it comes very close, but not in any way she predicted. Besides it is a useless class. *  
  
* Suit yourself. * Evan shifted position slightly on his shoulder. The spider had blatantly told him that he would not go into that cage on pain of pain.  
  
"Come on, let's find ourselves a compartment," Ron said mounting the steps to the train.  
  
"I don't think I have ever seen him this excited about school before," Harry commented. "Do you think he knows something we don't?"  
  
"I doubt it. But who knows, he might have gained an interest in studying," Hermione said this in all seriousness and managed to keep the face for a good ten seconds before succumbing to the hilarity of the statement.  
  
* Well at least she is not all books. * Evan mentioned.  
  
* What? *  
  
* I said she isn't all books. *  
  
* I heard that, but what do you mean? *  
  
* Have you no sense of being? Hermione may appear to be only book knowledge, and might be, but unlike others who know only books, she has a personality. *  
  
* And how can you make such a judgment? *  
  
* I have studied humans extensively. *  
  
* How? *  
  
* You didn't think Hagrid found me in the wild, did you? *  
  
* Well no, but why? *  
  
* They are the most constantly unpredictable species in existence. Why wouldn't I study them? *  
  
* I don't know. I guess I just find it strange. *  
  
* Of course you would. Humans don't consider the idea that they could be studied by another creature. But you studying other species is not considered unusual at all. *  
  
* How long have you been doing this? *  
  
* I'm not sure. *  
  
"Hey Harry!" a voice interrupted his thoughts. Turning around he saw two identical redheads heading in his direction. "Where are you and Ron sitting?"  
  
"Somewhere up ahead. I think Hermione went to make sure our luggage got on the car."  
  
"Good. we wanted to ask you something before the others get here," Fred whispered.  
  
"Particularly about the investment."  
  
"I already told you I want to be anonymous."  
  
"Oh no, not about that," George reassured him. "We wanted to ask you about some certain products."  
  
"Actually we wanted to give you some samples. Here," Fred handed him an unmarked box. "Let us know what you think. We thought about giving them to you with the others but after some considering. . ."  
  
"We figured you might want to keep something for Ron," George concluded.  
  
"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind. Is there anything you've already used on Ron?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"We're going to give you a second box with those."  
  
"Which reminds us . . ."  
  
"We still have Ron's before the term gift."  
  
"Come on. You don't want to miss his face when he sees it."  
  
"Shocked won't be the word for it."  
  
And so they barged into the cabin that Ron had secured. The redheaded boy was sitting across form his sister reading a Qudditch magazine. He looked up at the noise his older brothers made. "What took you so long?"  
  
"Ran in to these two," Harry responded, gesturing to the mirror images. He then noticed Hermione with her noise stuck in the Herman Tudunk book. "Find anything interesting, 'Mione?"  
  
"Plenty, but not what I want," she answered closing the book. "So what are the twins up to?"  
  
"That is for us to know--"  
  
"And you to find out. Shall we?"  
  
"Sure thing," George answered digging into a rucksack. "Let's see, this one's Hermione's." Fred took the parcel from his twin. "Ron's, Harry's, and Ginny's."  
  
The four of them look blankly at their presents, all wondering what the prankster duo had in mind. "Aren't you gonna open them?" Fred pushed. "We promise they don't bit."  
  
"That's not what I'm worried about," Ginny answered. "I'm worried about them sprouting legs and running amuck."  
  
"Nonsense, they don't do that-- Wait," George paused unexpectedly. "No," he continued hurriedly, "they don't."  
  
"Ok, now I'm worried about what they will do," Ron mumbled.  
  
"Well, I'm more curious than anything else," Harry said pulling the paper off the box. Upon opening it, he found a note, "Courtesy of Weasley's Wizard's Wheezes, we present to you a collection of the first products ever to come off the line," he read aloud. "So I take it you want me to use them and inform everyone they're from you?"  
  
"Naturally," they said in unison.  
  
"Not a problem. Sounds like fun actually."  
  
"A pot of ink? Really, I know the two of you can be more creative than that," Hermione had opened hers and was holding a small black inkwell in the palm of her hand.  
  
"Not just any pot of ink," Fred began in a voice that reminded Harry of an announce on an infomercial. "Tell them George. It was you idea."  
  
"Use it with Quick Quotes and you can make the Quotes outrageous or use it with a normal quill and the words you write morph into insults, false statements, and other useless phrases."  
  
"Why would I want this?"  
  
"We didn't think you would use it, but it was the most appropriate thing we had."  
  
"Then can you tell me what these are?" Ginny asked holding up a metallic looking dragonfly and resting in her lap were similar creatures: a dragon, a frog, a ladybug, and a unicorn.  
  
"Those we had to get some help with. Basically they were modeled after Muggle windup toys. There's a key in there as well. There are similar products out there, but not at all resembling Muggle toys."  
  
"To work them," Fred continued, "You wind the key in the hole provided, which engages the little gears and makes the wings and such move. But there are spells involved that make them do tricks and stuff and make them look real."  
  
"We thought it would be fun to have Muggle-like toys instead of those that work entirely on magic."  
  
"So they are not pranks?"  
  
"No, no, of course not."  
  
"We realize there are some people who don't want to buy jokes, so we decided to add novelty items to our stock."  
  
"Well Ron, are you going to open yours?"  
  
"I'm still expecting something to jump out at me," he mumbled, but did begin to unwrap the gift. He pulled out bright, pumpkin orange cloth and said, "What is this?"  
  
"That is your new dress robe." Ron's mouth dropped open as he looked thoroughly flabbergasted. "Try it on," George encouraged.  
  
"It's orange."  
  
"I believe Madam Malkin said it was the latest style."  
  
"It's orange."  
  
"It's made of velvet."  
  
"It's orange."  
  
"And your point?"  
  
"It's orange."  
  
"Try it on."  
  
"It's-"  
  
"Ron, we can see the color. At least try it on. It's not that difficult to change the color, unlike your experience with the cutting charms," Ginny said, trying to hide her giggles. Reluctantly Ron stood and put the brilliantly colored robe on over his school clothes, just to make everyone happy. The robe style itself was quite good looking, he decided, if only it wasn't orange. As her wore the robe the color changed drastically. Now it was a deep navy blue, appropriate for formal wear.  
  
"That was unnecessarily cruel," he accused his brothers, who had left in fits of laughter as the robe changed.  
  
* * * * * * * *   
  
Irvan disappear shortly after arriving, having no desire to wait around for the end of the commencement feast. He decided on making the journey down to Severus's chambers and look at the new books that were mentioned earlier. He had not taken the time to read the titles last time he was there and thought it would be productive to do so now. It would also give him time to consider the new telepathic link that had been established with Harry.  
  
In his experience only the vampire could create and maintain the link, though it was possible for the recipient to control his end. It was quite unusual for a vampire to have telepathy with humans and Irvan now had two.  
  
He was already an outcast among his own kind since the incident with Grendelwald, and had never been considerable influential before that. In fact on the ladder of the social hierarchy he was placed nearer to be bottom. Vampire social structure was bases solely on one's physical power. Should he ever enter a combat situation with another vampire he would most likely lose before it really began. Though he was two millennium in age, physically, by their standards, he should only be just over eighteen hundred years.  
  
And what had he been doing the entire time? Hanging around wizarding communities and developing a taste for research. He hadn't lied when he told Harry he studied humans. He found them more interesting than any other species. And he had a good amount of knowledge on those, both magical and non. His most amusing undertaking had been to classify magical specimens by the Muggle ranking of identification. To say the least, it had proven time consuming, but in the end paid off. Wizards now had a systematic way to look up various beasts.  
  
What he was still working on was an explanation as to why wizards could only transform into non magical creatures and why vampires transformed into unknown varieties of the same types of animals. That in itself was a mystery. His assumption was that wizards did not have enough extra magical energy to form a magical creature. The best they could do was make their animangus form slightly more perfect than a normal beast. Which in part explained why vampires created unique patterns of identification. He didn't know why he had set the girl, Hermione, on the track to figuring that out, but it was started now.  
  
The drawback to doing research was he didn't develop the physical skills to compete with older vampires. Not that there was much competition between them. They were quite capable of living alone or on a commune, but hunting was always done alone. They could survive alone, but they much preferred social living. And Irvan missed that.  
  
He spent the better part of the twenty years since he met Severus hiding out and isolating himself from any level of civilization. Why? Because he felt wholly inadequate being the only survivor of unicorn blood. True he had been the only one who was given the opportunity for survival since the last one over three thousand years ago when the so called legend was born. All the others had been force feed the liquid and left to die. He wondered if they would have done the same if given the opportunity. Survival instincts were exceptionally strong among vampires.  
  
There was one thing he was proud of that help alleviate some of the isolation. He had gain immense control over his mental and chemical faculties. More so than most of the vampiric race. At the mere age of a thousand he had figured out how to prevent accidental turnings. He suspected being born a vampire had helped. One of the few countable vampire form birth. Other advances he learned included drawing foreign bodies from others. For a vampire removing toxins it was instinct. Guarding dreams was another. Figuring out where the dreams centered and knowledge of how to control the mind activating chemicals made that possible.  
  
He had done similar to Harry. He had simply occupied that area and pushed the other out, effectively blocking the stimulus. If only he could figure out how Voldemort was sending the images. He knew it had nothing to do with the way he was familiar with, which meant he had to study the phenomena in more detail. Next, though probably in conjunction with, he needed to know how Voldemort was killing Harry. He did not doubt who was behind it. He knew what was happening but not how. And being a student of research, the unsolved questions annoyed him.  
  
* * * * * * * *   
  
"What are you doing here?" Severus asked the shadowed figure poised before the fireplace.  
  
"To make a complaint," Irvan said without moving a muscle. Suffice it to say that action rankled his nerves.  
  
"It took you this long to do so," he sneered. This should be interesting.  
  
"First of all," the vampire said slowly, informing Severus that he was in complete control of his emotions and actions. The voice however rose and fell in cadence with annoyance. "While I agreed to watch the boy, there was no mention of surviving against lunatic cats." Severus was hard press to suppress a mocking laugh. "I swear that thing knows an animangus on sight. It went bloody crazy trying to kill me. The second issue that was not part of the deal was those twins. Never before have I seen such reckless experimentations." Severus made a mental note to inquire as too the nature of the experiments, though he suspected the results to be produced as part of their lab work. "Furthermore, while I have no objections to listening to Harry's lamentations on unsolicited guilt, I find it tedious to have an undesired direct link to the workings of his mind. Unlike you, he does not know how to curb his thoughts."  
  
"And here I was beginning to think you liked the boy."  
  
"That has no relation to disliking having the boy in my head day in and day out."  
  
"And what, pray tell, does he think about during the day?" He didn't know why he asked the question, but it did put an amusing expression on the vampire's face.  
  
"Trust me, you don't want to know."  
  
"So how did this link come into existence?"  
  
"I honestly don't know. Though with thinking things over, I am certain it is a consequence of interfering with his connection to Voldemort. The same areas of the brain are affected when I block the stream of images as when he sends them. However I do not understand how we have formed this means of communication. I have only formed physic links intentionally."  
  
"This proves to be an interesting set up. I suppose it has its uses."  
  
"Uses," Irvan repeated disgusted. "Try telling me about uses when he gets stuck in your head."  
  
"What do you mean by that?"  
  
"I mean, it is entirely plausible that should I loose control of the separation, you and Harry would be able to have a wonderful conversation about your mutual discontent, over a good distance."  
  
Severus stood, shocked for the moment. That certainly had not been his first consideration, nor had it been of any consideration. The mere thought of the possibility of communicate more than he dictated was appalling. He focused his attention back on Irvan, who had a well developed smirk on his face. "You are bloody well enjoying this."  
  
"Quite. It's not everyday I find an opportunity to probe your spot of fury." Damn vampire. "There is another thing I should bring to your attention," he continued seriously. "I am beginning to believe that Voldemort has figured out a way to knowingly use their connection to weaken Harry, and now I think he knows that something has interfered with that process. I don't, however, believe he is aware that Harry can view his actions when he does so. "  
  
"And how do you know this?"  
  
"Mainly I can feel him trying to draw energy and when he doesn't succeed he gets mad. It is an interesting cycle."  
  
"Only you would find that interesting."  
  
"Perhaps."  
  
"Any close encounters?"  
  
"If you mean with Voldemort, no. I have managed to intercept all of those encounters. If you mean with Harry, yes. Trying to keep my identity hidden is difficult enough without Harry popping in and catching me off guard."  
  
"That must be a first."  
  
"No it isn't. You manage to do so repeatedly," Irvan mentioned glumly as though he was disappointed in the revelation. "What I meant was I have let slip several statements that should have given me away if he suspected anything."  
  
"Fortunately, Potter isn't the most observant of children."  
  
"A little unnecessarily cruel, aren't you?"  
  
"When it's a statement of fact, I don't consider it cruel." Irvan just shrugged his indifference. "So why did you come down here in the first place?"  
  
"A chance at a intelligent conversation?"  
  
"Is the great Harry Potter not a great conversationalist as well?"  
  
"He is a child. And while he is more mature than a child of his age should be, he does not have the necessary knowledge to carry on a higher level conversation."  
  
"Pity. At least it is known the boy can't do everything."  
  
"I never realized you despised him," Irvan commented as he sat across from Severus on a stiff leather wing back.  
  
"Despise is a bit strong. Dislike is more suiting. The boy is annoying and the mere fact that he is popularized by the public is enough to make me sick. If you think my treatment of him is unjustified, go join the rest of the staff in coddling the boy. If he's going to save the world as they predict, then he might as well get use to the fact that there is more out there then friends."  
  
"And who would have thought you would be the one to point that out and protect him at the same time. A bit of a paradox."  
  
"Oh, do shut up. I don't care what you see in it; it doesn't change the fact that the boy is a nuisance and a danger to himself and others. If he wants to get himself killed before hand, far be it from me to stop him. And if it weren't for Dumbledore, I would leave him be."  
  
"Bold claim. you still haven't told me how you wound up under Dumbledore's supervision."  
  
"And you still haven't told me what you were doing to get caught by Malfoy." Snape smirked as Irvan shifted uncomfortably under the accusation. If either was going to get information of that type then they would have to go first. Neither would do so and thus it became a stalemate. 


	11. Chapter 11

____________________________________________  
  
Chapter 11  
  
_______________________________________  
  
Harry woke early this morning. He had promised to met Remus after breakfast when they all happened to have a free period. Of course Hermione and Ron were more than anxious to accompany him. Hermione saw it as an opportunity to to show off her newest book and all the knowledge she had gained from it. Ron joined them out of desire to talk with one of his favorite teachers. After the 'second' Shrieking Shack incident, Ron had become far more accepting and interested in werewolves, shedding most of his pureblood prejudices.  
  
"So, you did decide to come," Remus said looking up from one of his books. "What was it you wanted to talk about?"  
  
Harry smiled in response. "Mainly what Snuffles has been up to lately." Harry and his friends took seats near Lupin's desk.  
  
"I actually have no idea. He left saying something about scouting things out for Dumbledore." The werewolf put his book away and turned his attention solely on his students. The only thought Harry had of the matter was so long as there was Wolfsbane, it was kind of cool to say you were friends with a werewolf.  
  
"I hope he is all right," Hermione said. "It's not fair that he is still on the run. If Snape hadn't interrupted, he might be free."  
  
"Most unfortunate, indeed. But I wouldn't worry about him. He is more than capable of taking care of himself. I see you have Evan with you," Professor Lupin commented on the tarantula. He seemed fascinated by the creature the moment he first saw it. Probably because he couldn't identify the species.  
  
"That's the other thing we wanted to talk to you about," Hermione said, pulling out the Tudunk volume. "I found this in Flourish and Blots, but I haven't found anything of use."  
  
"Is that the newest edition?" Remus sounded just like a child on Christmas. "I've been wanting to get a good look at that since it came out. It's suppose to have more information on Dark Creatures as well as several new finds. I don't understand why Madame Pince has not added this to her collection here at Hogwarts."  
  
"I was impressed with the amount of information he has found on all of these creatures. What's more is that he uses a Muggle technique of identification."  
  
"I believe at the time it was considered radical by the wizarding community. But has revolutionized the study of magical creatures."  
  
Ron nudged Harry, "You didn't tell me we were going to listen to them praise a book."  
  
Harry shrugged, "I didn't expect Hermione to bring that thing. I've got that potions book with me. We can figure out a way to sabotage Malfoy's potion."  
  
"Much rather laugh at the pictures. Still can't believe someone was there to take the snapshots." They then settled down to look at the disturbing pictures of failed potion experiments.  
  
"Hey, Harry," Hermione pulled him out of this contemplation of a botched energy potion. "Could we see Evan for a minute?"  
  
"Sure. I'm certain he won't mind," he said picking the spider off his shoulder and handed him to the frizzy haired witch,  
  
* Of course, hand me over to the academics. This will not be an enjoyable experience. *  
  
* I thought you would enjoy being with you own mind set. *  
  
* A werewolf and a girl could hardly be counted in my mind set. *  
  
"Hmm. I could swear I've seen these colors before. That slivery tinge is familiar, but I can't place it at the moment."  
  
"You mean you might know what it is, Professor?"  
  
"No, but I feel as though I have read something about coloration on magical arachnids. Would you mind if I were to barrow this book for a while?"  
  
"Not at all, Professor. I've read most of it, but none of it was of much help in identifying Evan. But I learned far more about every other species then I thought possible. Tudunk must have spent a lot of time observing in the field."  
  
"I have a feeling he spent more time collecting other wizards' observations and organizing them. There were a lot of references in the original. Probably more so in this one."  
  
"He did have a lot of references to books I've never heard of, and a great deal I couldn't obtain."  
  
"I'll see what I can do about that."  
  
"Thank you, Professor."  
  
"Hey, this looks like you, Professor!" Ron exclaimed pointing to a picture in the potions book. Harry glanced at the photo and agreed it looked like a younger version of Remus accompanied by a Sirius and what could only have been James.  
  
"Really? What book is that?" Lupin leaned in closer, curious.  
  
"Some potions book Hermione found at Flourish and Blots," Ron supplied, still studying the picture.  
  
"Let me see." And they all huddled around the book. Sure enough it was Remus along with the rest of the Marauders. Remus was floating while the others were trying to hold him down. The Professor laughed as he recognized the scene."I remember that. Still haven't figured out who had the camera."  
  
"What happened?" Harry asked.  
  
"I made a spectacular mistake and took flight. We were making some sort of fever reducing potion, if I recall."  
  
"Wait. You got that from a fever potion? That's impossible!"  
  
"I know. The Professor said the potion was impossible to mess up. We all loved to prove her wrong back then. What does the book say I did wrong? I always forget."  
  
"It says, 'By adding more than the recommended number of pixie wings, the person runs the risk of creating a levitation potion. This is sure to occur if the temperature of the potion goes below that of boiling and there is far to little water to act as a base. If powdered Devil's Tongue is not added before the pixie wings, then the potion will explode without warning. See the picture for details.' Wow. I didn't know that could happen," Hermione commented.  
  
"Nor did Professor Galdins. She looked to Severus to correct the mistake. You can imagine how happy James and Sirius were when they found out. I believe we were in out sixth year at the time of this incident."  
  
"Professor," Ron queried. "You said you were still trying to figure out who took the picture. Did you have a copy of this book before?"  
  
"Yes. James and Sirius thought it would be a great gag gift for me and Peter. It came out Christmas our seventh year. And it was quite popular because it had many Hogwarts' students on the pages. There's a good one of Severus experimenting in here, somewhere." Remus proceeded to take the book and skim the pages. "Here we are. The great Potions Master doing what he does best. Recuperating from a potions disaster."  
  
The picture displayed a young Severus Snape, hair pulled back and clasped at the nape of his neck, stirring in ingredients for some unknown potion. He seemed quite unconcerned and appeared to be picking items at random. Then a small puff of yellow smoke erupted from the simmering cauldron. Hastily he put out his fire and and moved combustible items away from the impending explosion. Unfortunately the liquid didn't explode up. It went out, dissolving the sides of the cauldron, coating Snape in a greenish yellow paste and flying out to mark a containment boarder. The caption read, 'Never mix hippogriff feathers with daddy-long-legs spiders without a minimum of a five minute wait.'  
  
"What was he making?" Harry asked, not being able to see the text clearly.  
  
"Says a variation on a cleaning solution," Hermione read.  
  
"Wonder what the teacher's reaction was," Ron asked aloud, knowing Remus would answer.  
  
"Severus got a detention for experimenting in class, but she couldn't fail him for the day because he had already completed and bottled the assignment. From what I heard she berated him for putting the class in unnecessary danger and complemented him on the containment shield. Though he was glowing in the dark for about a week after that."  
  
"Cool. Think we could do something like that to Malfoy?"  
  
"I'd be careful about that. The potion's been patented now."  
  
"Really? By Professor Snape?"  
  
"No, his father patented for him."  
  
"I didn't know you could do that."  
  
"It's not looked highly upon, but as I understand it, Severus's father was a very influential man when it came to potions. But I believe it is time for our first class. You don't want to be late."  
  
"To Divinations? Never," Harry smiled. He really should have dropped that class. The last thing he needed was Trelawney predicting his death three times a week. "Come on, Ron. You just know Trelawney is going to see us being late as a bad omen."  
  
"Yeah, probably one that will lead to your untimely demise. Bye, Professor."  
  
"Harry, aren't you forgetting something?" Professor Lupin held out the arachnid for Harry to take.  
  
"I had thought you wanted to give your class a new creature to puzzle over," he responded putting Evan on his shoulder. "See you at lunch, Professor."  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
Irvan was not at all pleased on the trip up to Trelawney's abode. Yes, he certainly got the idea that the witch was nothing more and an old fraud. But did he honestly have to listen to it the entire time. He refrained from commenting, knowing Harry was hardly accustom to random comments in his head. But that certainly did not stop him from hearing the random thoughts running through Harry's head. The ones that people are not always aware of. Did it really matter if Harry saw Cho today? Or that Malfoy had been turned into a ferret?  
  
There was a reason he stayed away from children. They had no focus. Not that many adult humans had much anyway. There were a few and Irvan had made it a point to meet them. At least until he met Grindelwald.  
  
He mentally shrugged that thought aside. It was laughable situation he was in now. If the rest of the vampire population knew he was still alive, he would not be hearing the end of the taunting. One way or another he would find suitable retribution for Severus. He conceded that Voldemort was out of his league. But Severus, Irvan could handle.  
  
The intense smell of incense overwhelmed any ability to think for several moments. Then he saw the old witch, dressed in her baubles and mystic apparel. Trelawney was Sybil. Blood and bloody ashes, he was in deep. Severus he could handle. Sybil was an entirely different matter. This was not good, but Irvan was far to experienced to panic. No, that would come when she had him alone and at wand point. Suddenly he wondered if Dumbledore knew this woman was a partially trained vampire hunter.  
  
Why didn't Severus tell him! Even a partially trained hunter could spot a vampire through the transformation.  
  
Silently he slipped off Harry's shoulder in a vain attempt to leave the premises. The witch had already surrounded the exits with a barrier charm, proving she was not to out of practice. Severus was definitely going to hear about this. With nothing left to do, Irvan resolved to settle back and take stock of the situation. One thing was certain, he was never coming back to this class.  
  
Around him the students were preparing to participate in class. Half were pretending Divinations was something more than an easy grade. Harry and Ron were among the few trying less than hard. If they didn't believe the subject matter than why spend the energy climbing the latter to reach this musty room.  
  
"For our first session after the summer, we shall review reading tea leaves," the witch referred to as Trelawney spoke in a soft, mystical voice. She had been practicing. He watched her carefully, but she never once turned her glance towards him. "You will find teapots for each pairing. You'll begin by writing down what you see in the steam and its interpretation."  
  
"See anything?" the Weasley asked quietly.  
  
"No. You?" Harry replied in kind.  
  
"All right. A nine legged spider clutching a mouse. So, what do you think it means?"  
  
"No idea. Now what do I see? How about a seven legged spider. You know I've forgotten what spiders mean." Harry whispered.  
  
"Same here."  
  
What were those boys thinking? Don't create something you can't explain. Even he knew that. And while Divinations was not his forte, he even knew what arachnids meant in readings. It was a very ambivalent creature indeed. Depending on the instance, a spider could mean a gain in wealth, creativity or balance, but arachnids also had the honor of being a fore-bringer of death and ensnarement. Caught in a moment of curiosity, Irvan wondered what these two would make of their tea dregs.  
  
After a cautious glance at Sybil and Irvan moved closer to the boys' paper to read their interpretation. Perhaps scoffing Divinations could be amusing.  
  
"Nine legs, Mr. Weasley," unfortunately Sybil didn't even sound skeptical, merely curious. "The meaning might be clear once we read the leaves. Harry, your reading seems to be related to Ron's. A seven legged spider is also unusual, but readings have never required the objects to be replicas of exact objects. It is the object and number that are important."  
  
Harry nodded in understanding, though Irvan doubted if the boy knew what he was suppose to understand. Sybil walk on to the next pairing, leaving the two boys to finish off their tea and discuss their findings. Or rather in this case discuss what they could make up and still get away with. He tuned out their discussion, waiting until a decision had been made.   
  
"I suppose I could always see a Grim."  
  
"That's lame, Harry."  
  
"But last time I saw a Grim it was Snuffles. Why can't it be that now?"  
  
"You know Trelawney, death is the only thing she sees."  
  
"I'll still say I see a Grim. She seems to agree whenever that comes up."  
  
"Oh my, this is serious." Irvan started when Sybil spoke, peering into Harry's cup. "A double image of a Grim and a barrier. It appears the spider is involved with the barrier. But beware, nothing is as it seems. There are two bringers of death for you, Harry. Since the spider is missing a leg, he is sure to be desperate." Harry just nodded dumbly. Irvan could hear the boy's confusion but mostly the boy was in the mindset of unbelief. Sybil was in her element and it was laughable that many of her pupils were quite taken with her performance.  
  
Irvan knew class was almost over, then Harry would go down to Potions with Severus and hopefully he would be able to discover why Sybil decided to lock him in. The only thing that would hinder his plans was if she had another class following this one.  
  
"For next class," Trelawney continued, "make predictions using your sky charts. And Harry, I would keep a close eye on your new pet."  
  
Irvan was ready to curse the witch into next week for mentioning him. That was the last thing he needed. Harry might not be informed of all the circumstances, but despite what he told Severus, the boy was bright enough to make the connects. If given sufficient clues, of course. If that woman so much as hints to him being a vampire, then all his secrets would be out and he would have to be on the look out for both the werewolf and Animangus. That was not in his best interests.  
  
"That was odd," he heard Ron whisper as he lifted his bag from the floor. "I had expected her to predict your death, again."  
  
"That was odd, but we'll talk later. Someone wants us to loose our heads this year. We have Snape next. As if the sprint to the dungeons wasn't enough," and both boys had left the tower.  
  
It was now left to him and Sybil. Not his choice of company.  
  
"Good morning, Irvan. I'll admit I hadn't foreseen your arrival, but then you vampires hardly ever appear in visions." 


	12. Chapter 12

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Chapter 12  
  
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Irvan transformed from his animangus shape, thankful Sybil was generous enough to wait until everyone had left the room. He was still annoyed at her placement of the wards. He really would have left had those not been in place. He did wonder how there could be wards to keep certain creatures in and let others out; he wondered but had no desire to learn.   
  
Irvan neglected to give common courtesy to the Divinations' Professor and stood waiting for the conversation to begin. If anything he would listen then leave, but that was only if Sybil was not in a talkative mood. He was certain Harry would have found this situation interesting. Surely the boy did not think Trelawney was anything more than a fraud Divinations' professor.  
  
"So, Irvan, what are you doing here?" she question, putting a fresh pot of tea on to heat. From that gesture, Irvan concluded that he would be spending more time in this attic than he deemed necessary. "The last time we met, I got the impression you were hiding from some people. Your presence here is most intriguing."  
  
"My presence can easily be explained as an assignment." How he hated referring to his bondage. True he could accept it as it was, but to have to explain the position to another annoyed him to no end.  
  
"Is that so? It appears then that some of my previous predictions concerning you have come to pass. Particularly the choice between death and bondage." Sybil stirred the pot as though searching for some image from the past. She had hit the mark with that prediction. But Irvan had never given much credit to her task. Imprecise was hardly an accurate description. "Since you are standing here, it means you have chosen bondage. To whom?" Irvan stood stock still, watching the seer as she stared vacantly in to the steam. He was going to have to tell her, he realized. That much was certain. But he certainly did not want to. "I've never known Albus Dumbledore to befriend vampires and he is most definitely not a dark wizard."  
  
"So you do remember your own words," he responded disdainfully, sinking into himself with remembering, as much to stall answering her true question as to release his annoyance at her catching him unaware. He hated slayers and hunters, as all vampires should. But unlike all vampires, he survived his encounters. No thanks to his control of the situation. He had somehow been marked well before he met Sybil. A mark he couldn't see, nor understand, but hunters have just refused to slay him. Slayers knew he wasn't to be touched, but none bothered to explain. They just packed up and left after meeting him. His luck would eventually run out, that he could be certain of.  
  
"Sit down," she ordered in her mystical air. It didn't affect him in any way, and he suspect she kept it just to she wouldn't confuse one place with another. "Tea?"  
  
"No, thank you."  
  
"But we haven't seen each other in over thirty years. I thought we could catch up." Sybil sounded as though the statement was true.  
  
"I would rather not have my future read," he said when Sybil didn't remove the proffered cup.  
  
Sybil looked past the tea to Irvan's face to judge his reaction. "Really? It can be most enlightening."  
  
"No doubt." He remained neutral.  
  
"Then at least sit down, Irvan. I can't imagine it is very comfortable having a conversation while standing." Irvan did as he was bid and sat across from Trelawney. The sooner he did so the sooner he could leave.  
  
"You've changed your name," he commented, trying to keep the line of conversation away from his situation as much as possible.  
  
"Yes, women tend to do that when they get married." A distance appeared in her eyes.  
  
Irvan had not known that. "And your husband?"  
  
"Dead. Not that it would matter much to you, but he was killed while at a friend's house. His friend was married to a Muggle. You-Know-Who's Death Eaters showed up and murdered everyone in the house."  
  
"I am sorry to hear that." What was more was he meant it. "It is difficult to lose a loved one to maniacs."  
  
"How come I get the impression you are referring to my family as well as the Death Eaters?" Sybil's mystical tone harden with this statement, clueing Irvan to the fact that she knew exactly what he was referring to.  
  
"Perhaps it is because I am. Killing my sister and father was not the wisest thing your father did in his life."  
  
"Perhaps. But you and your mother came and took revenge."  
  
"What would you have expected us to do? Sit around quietly and forget the entire incident." Irvan attempted to keep his hostility out of the conversation. It was difficult when talking about personal matters. He did not condone murder, but losing loved ones without a verifiable reason bothered him greatly.  
  
"No, but killing my father did nothing."  
  
"It certainly made my mother feel satisfied."  
  
"That was because she drained him."  
  
Irvan shrugged in response. He didn't particularly care one way or the other who had been killed by whom. He had loved his sister dearly, but he was not about to kill her murderer. His mother had disagreed. Because of that she had hunted down the Slayer and killed him out of spite. She had not gained much in the way of nutrition, having been at the peak of her performance in order to commit the deed. The Slayer's death had not benefited him in anyway. Irvan also knew that if another vampire had murdered his family, his mother would have down nothing in retaliation.  
  
"If I recall correctly, you just stood there and watched."  
  
"You expected me to help? "He raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Your mother at least."  
  
"She is quite capable of killing for herself. Perhaps better than me. Though I admit I was confused as to why the rest of your family didn't attempt to kill either of us."  
  
"We told you that already."  
  
"Yes, I know about that stupid mark you hunters always mention. But that doesn't explain anything."  
  
"It should. You are marked to do something important and slayers are not to interfere with whatever that is."  
  
"That event has not happened in two thousand years. And I never thought hunters put much thought into superstition and prophecy."  
  
"They put in much more thought than the average wizard. Haven't you noticed that the best seers come from exceptional slayer families?"  
  
"I haven't really taken the time to study," Irvan replied sulkily.  
  
"You are suppose to do something important and I want to know what. I'm thinking it began with the first vision I had for you. The one about you choosing between life or death at the hands of a dark wizard. It might be more clear if you tell me who you are bound to."  
  
The witch was more persistent than he remembered. For some reason he had thought the woman had forgotten about that line of thought. "Fine," he conceded, "Severus." Somehow a cup of tea found its way to his hand and further to his lips. Tea was not his favorite drink, but anything would do to keep his mind off this conversation.  
  
"Severus Snape? That explains the fuzzy connection between him and Harry Potter. I had thought it was because Severus was a Death Eater and connected to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, which is connect to Harry. But you are much more reasonable."  
  
"I'm glad you think so," he sneered.  
  
"This also explains Harry's tea reading."  
  
"He was making it all up," Irvan thought it prudent to inform her.  
  
"Nonsense. You don't make up readings. You merely think you are if you are not trained. Harry doesn't realize his unconscious is providing him with his readings. So that means the seven legged spider is you. I must have been wrong. You're not desperate as I first thought. You have lost a lot of your control."  
  
"Thank you for that assessment of the situation."  
  
"Now about the barrier."  
  
"What about the barrier?"  
  
"I am certain you heard me mention that the spider was connect to the barrier."  
  
"Yes, but I fail to see how this should concern me."  
  
"Simple. If the spider is connected to the barrier separating Harry from the Grim, you are the spider and must be doing something beneficial. What are you doing?" she inquired.  
  
"Keeping the boy alive," he stated simply.  
  
"As I said, beneficial. Does he know you are doing this?"  
  
"Yes, he knows, but he does not know I'm the same as Evan. Nor will you tell him."  
  
"I wouldn't dream of it. Though I am curious about how you are keeping him alive."  
  
"Those visions he has of Voldemort," he paused slightly when he saw the witch flinch. Severus flinched sometimes when he mentioned the name. And in all his dealings with Severus, Irvan had never heard the man refer to the Dark Wizard by that name. Not unless Lord preceded it. So it appeared more people than Severus was afraid to say the name. "Those visions he has," he amended, "were killing him, though I have no understanding as to why or how."  
  
"Then they must not be true visions."  
  
"Then tell me what true visions are."  
  
"When a seer has visions, it is like casting a net and hoping to catch something relevant, if you can catch anything at all. A good seer knows when and how to cast the net to get the best results. Visions are random glimpses of the future, past or present. Not usually the past. Present and future are most common."  
  
"You are saying visions are random occurrences. So what Harry is experiencing are not visions."  
  
"Precisely."  
  
"Then what are they?"  
  
"What do you know about them?"  
  
"So you think you might know what to classify them as?"  
  
"Why not. It appears you already know how to keep them from harming Harry. Why not attempt to rid Harry of these so called visions entirely."  
  
"That would certainly be less exhausting for me in any case." Irvan settled a little in the chair he had chosen.  
  
"I didn't think vampires got exhausted."  
  
"Physically, it is very hard. Mentally, it is easier. And for most of vampires, what I am doing would be a physical impossibility. The others have not learned how to control their minds."  
  
"Interesting. You will have to tell me more about that once this is all through. But for now, what can you tell me about Harry's visions?"  
  
"He pretty much just watches whatever You-Know-Who is doing at the moment, which is never very pleasant." He might as well attempt to make the conversation bearable, having Sybil flinch every time he said Voldemort was become annoying. "And as I have noticed, the visions are usually accompanied by strong emotions on You-Know-Who's part." Replacing the name would also grate his nerves if he ad to continue much longer.  
  
"So Harry watches as though he was there and not through You-Know-Who's eyes."  
  
"Right."  
  
"That right there is like a normal vision. But didn't you say they were killing him?"  
  
"I did. The only thing I could surmise is that, because Harry is able to feel the pain of the victims, his body is shutting down as a defense against the intrusion. But what puzzles me, is the feel of energy being drawn out of Harry's body. I know visions take energy to view, but that doesn't account for energy to be pulled from the source."  
  
"Quite. With visions, energy is depleted, but I have never met a seer who complained that something pulled it from her. You think You-Know-Who is behind it."  
  
"I have my suspicions."  
  
"Have you told anyone else?"  
  
"I have voiced them to Severus. But I had not planned on having this conversation, much less seeing you again."  
  
"You don't enjoy our conversations?"  
  
"No. It is rather uncomfortable to sit in the same room as a hunter."  
  
"I am not a slayer. I never planned to become one. Though your mother cut that option severely short."  
  
"Still you had training for the better part of fifteen years."  
  
"Sixteen."  
  
"Forgive me. It was never good at estimating age," he said bitterly.  
  
"You'll never forget that incident."  
  
"Of course not. It's not like we ever did anything to you. You're just one more on a list of creatures created to kill us."  
  
"We are not creatures."  
  
"Oh? Then what are you?"  
  
"Human beings. Which is more than you can say."  
  
"Like I would want to. Look what they did to the vampire population. The turned ones feel it is necessary to take out all their frustration on their old race. If it weren't for the Turned, your family would be out of a job." Out of a job only because there wouldn't be any vampires left considering the number of slaying families and their tendency to have numerous children.  
  
"Perhaps."  
  
Irvan ground his teeth in frustration. He hated dealing with hunters. Just as bad as werewolves. All they wanted was to kill vampires. "Do you know anything that might help Harry's situation?"  
  
Sybil looked just as miffed, even though she hid it better behind her mysterious aura. "It seems Harry is connect to You-Know-Who like a fish on a hook to the fishing rod."  
  
"I absolutely love your analogies," he sneered.  
  
"They work," she defended. "I suppose if that is how it works, then there must be some way to snap the line. I'm sure you'll be kind enough to keep me informed of any progress. And I would like to know exactly how you are keeping the visions at bay, but that will have to wait for another time. I have a class coming up shortly." Irvan nodded his assent, if only to leave this blasted tower, and set his empty cup on the table and made to leave. Sybil, making no move to lower the charms keeping him in the room, had picked up his cup and was studying the dregs. Lucky him. Not only did he get to have his past picked apart, but also he got to have his future read by an amateur. "This is unusual. I don't think I have ever seen a tree associated with vampires before."  
  
"A tree?" Why did he have to ask that aloud? He actually sounded surprised.  
  
Sybil wasn't really listening to him anyway. "Trees that appear in readings are either the Tree of Life or the Tree of Knowledge, though I don't know how to determine which is which. Well, it appears you are going to have something beneficial happen soon."  
  
"Not if that is truly a tree."  
  
"Why would that be?"  
  
"Have you forgotten your most basic training? Trees and vampires don't mix. Much less the Trees of Life and Knowledge. If I knew why, I'd tell you. Now can I leave?" He hated asking permission. Sybil waved her wand and Irvan was free to descend the latter. Finally.  
  
He hated Sybil.  
  
He hated slayers.  
  
He hated Voldemort.  
  
He was beginning to hate Severus.  
  
But he really hated werewolves.  
  
And he was facing one down as he thought.  
  
Damn. Things could not go any worse for him.  
  
He had thought his life couldn't get more cursed and then he tasted unicorn blood. That just escalated the problem. He might as well add, he hated his life, or what was left of it.  
  
"And what are you doing here?" Lupin growled.  
  
"Coming down from a disturbing conversation with Sybil," Irvan growled in return. He did not want to have this conversation. "But you are probably referring to my general presence at Hogwarts. As to that, I am doing exactly what I promised: Keeping an eye on Harry."  
  
"Are you now? Let's talk somewhere a little more private," the werewolf mention, keying Irvan to the fact that they were in a hallway where children would eventually come. Irvan became suddenly aware of his fangs. 'Think Irvan. Surely that little chat with Sybil hasn't unnerved you to the point of forgetting no one is suppose to know you are here. Be thankful it was someone who already knew that found you.'  
  
Lupin moved down the hall and Irvan was obligated to follow. Why? Because he was the idiot who was not watching were he was going and got caught. Because the consequences of refusing were far more terrifying than those of obeying. Because he lost the will that would have allowed him to refuse.  
  
Damn Sybil. More right than she could ever know. Seven legs was right. Damn Severus. He was the missing eighth. Rather Irvan was an extension of Severus and therefore loosing part of himself in the process. It was all a viscous cycle that caught him in the undesired center. 


	13. Chapter 13

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Chapter 13  
  
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Remus lead the way into an empty, dusty classroom with the intention of discovering exactly what the dark creature was doing on the premise. He knew he had no right to eradicate the vampire, as much as he wanted to. He found it impossible to believe Severus's story, but he had no determine Dumbledore's policy concerning trust. He did, however, consider it his duty to protect Harry, so long as Sirius was unable to do so.  
  
"What are you doing here?" he pressed.  
  
"I told you. Doing as Severus requested," Irvan grounded out.  
  
The answer frustrated Remus. There was more to it. There had to be. "You are a threat here."  
  
"And what are you?" Irvan had him there. Werewolves were a cause for alarm, but only for one night of the month. Twelve maybe thirteen a year. Vampires on the other hand were always considered dangerous. If only because you never knew when it would go into Bloodlust.   
  
Remus didn't smell blood on the vampire, nor anything else that would indicate he had been causing trouble. But he did smell the tangy scent of fear. Interesting coming from one of the most feared creatures in existence. "Unlike you, I have a method of control. But explaining that to you is inconsequential."  
  
"Wolfsbane, I believe," the vampire interrupted with a sneer. Afraid he might be, but he was still disdainful. It seemed to be Irvan's personality. Remus just happened to be on the wrong side of it. "Yes, I would called that an adequate method of control." Fear certainly didn't stop it from dwelling on sarcasm.  
  
Remus growled. He was going to find out everything the vampire was doing on school grounds. And Hogemeade if he could manage. "With you on free reign, it is only a matter of time before some unsuspecting victim comes your way at the wrong time."  
  
Irvan frowned. "I thought that had been made clear to you earlier this year. I simply cannot intentionally harm anyone directly associated to this school."  
  
"There are still many ways for you to get around that one."  
  
"Unfortunately, no." The creature actually sounded depressed. Was it possible Severus had him bound stronger than he thought? Remus doubted it. "Promises seem to carry over through Lust quite effectively. Though the full moon is coming in a few days. Perhaps you should look into your little control method."  
  
"I do not need you to tell me what to do." Damn the man. Turning everything on end.  
  
"But it appears you can't control yourself otherwise."  
  
"That is none of your business."  
  
"Perhaps it should be. One threat keeping an eye on the other. Pretty effective, don't you think."  
  
"Don't you have your hands full with Harry? If one thing goes wrong, I'm going to personally take you out."  
  
"Not if you are detained by the Ministry." Remus was shocked. This thing should not know anything about the Ministry interrogations, but it acts as though it knew everything. "I'm sure they won't keep you too long. Maybe just a month or so to study your transformation. Without Wolfsbane. Who knows they might find something useful."  
  
"How do you know about that?" he demanded hotly, taking the vampire by the collar.  
  
"Why does it matter? I already know," Irvan gave a slight smile. Despite positions, it appeared the vampire had gained control of the conversation.  
  
"May I ask what is going on?" Remus turned startled by the soft inquiry. Ablus Dumbledore had entered their abandoned classroom. Behind him stood the sour faced Severus Snape.  
  
"A simple discussion on his methods of keeping an eye on Harry," Remus explained, removing his hand from the vampire. No need to make things appear worse than they were.  
  
"Is that all? Then is there a problem with the way Irvan is accomplishing his assignment?"  
  
"Only that he won't tell me what he is doing, Professor."  
  
"It's all for the best, Remus," Dumbledore explained. "Should too many know, it would jeopardize his ability to remain hidden."  
  
"But it's too dangerous. If we don't know where he is constantly, then someone is bound to get hurt."  
  
"I assure you both Severus and I know what he is doing at any particular time." Remus nodded at the finality of the statement. There would be no arguing on that point. "Now, Irvan, I overheard you mentioning the Ministry." The vampire nodded, suddenly looking for all the world as though someone had just placed him on the top of the menu. "I do not know how you became familiar with the threat of interrogations for both Remus and Severus, but the details are not for you to know."  
  
"And why is that?" The question was voiced low, not threatening but not humble either.  
  
"They do not concern you."  
  
"I would think the absence of Severus would concern me greatly." Now the vampire sounded slightly threatening.  
  
"That is for Severus to decide." Dumbledore looked over to the Potions Master who gave the barest shrug of his shoulders. The Headmaster nodded as though he understood. Pulling out a letter, he turned to the werewolf. "Now, Remus, I have some news concerning your impending meeting with the Ministry. It appears that Percival Weasley has stepped in to assist you. After some observation and questioning here at the school, we think you won't be asked to participate any longer. At least not in serious interrogations."  
  
"So they are using their collective brain and remembering that I had nothing to do with You-Know-Who's first rise to power."  
  
"It appears that way," Dumbledore smiled slightly at Remus's sarcasm. It was a rare event when Remus Lupin used that method to get his point across. In most conversations he participated in with the Headmaster, it was Severus Snape who took the market on sarcasm.  
  
"Who is presiding over the observations?" Remus asked, eager to know how he could prepare for the upcoming day.  
  
"I'm afraid I do not know at the moment. Fudge has not decided on an official."  
  
"What about the dates?"  
  
"The week after the full moon, I believe."  
  
"That's good. I was thinking they would choose to come during the full moon."  
  
"I wouldn't be too surprised if they change their minds. I heard them mention Alastor Moody as the observer. If he gets his way he might change the date."  
  
"So long as Severus is here to make the Wolfsbane. What do they have planned for Severus anyway?" he said turning his attention to the surly Potions Professor.  
  
"Why does it matter to you, Lupin?" Snape interjected, focusing his frown on the Defense Professor. Remus couldn't decide if Snape's hatred for him came from the mere fact he was a werewolf, his position on the staff, or a combination of things relating mostly from the past.  
  
"I'm just concerned, that's all."  
  
"Touching," he sneered.  
  
"Severus," Dumbledore spoke softly, but there was warning behind his voice. "I have not received much word on your case. Though Fudge did mention, in the letter about Remus, his intention to have you brought in for questioning."  
  
"I thought as much. Those stupid bureaucrats will do anything to find a scapegoat," Severus mumbled to no one.  
  
"Don't give up all hope, Severus. I'm still trying to dissuade them on the grounds that they are interfering with Hogwarts's business." Remus was certain the Headmaster would have placed a hand on Snape's shoulder, if he had thought it would do any good. But it seemed Dumbledore didn't dare at the moment.  
  
"No offense, Headmaster, but I would rather not place all my faith in your ability with words. Just look at what they did to Hagrid two years ago. You were not able to dissuade the Ministry then and only managed to facilitate your temporary removal. The more you fight this one the more likely the Governors will look to your permanent removal."  
  
"I seriously doubt, Severus," Remus spoke up. "The only reason he was removed that year was because Lucius Malfoy threaten most of the Board. I don't think he will try that again."  
  
"You are forgetting, Lupin, who they want to get rid of first. Now if you will excuse me," he said as he turned to escape from the room. Sometime during the conversation Irvan had found his way to Severus's side. No doubt relishing the opportunity to escape from the werewolf.  
  
"Severus," Dumbledore said, holding the Potions Professor in check for a moment. "I am doing what I can. Try to keep some hope."  
  
Snape turned to face the headmaster before replying. The pause seemed to last forever. "There is no hope where I am concerned with the Ministry." He turned and walked out of the room with a determined flare. The vampire on the other hand just seemed to flee. What was it that made him terrified of werewolves. He certainly had never smelled that level of fear on it before. Could there be something more? Perhaps something to do with Trelawney. Remus made a mental note to ask the divinations teacher what was discussed.  
  
"Is there a chance that the Ministry will leave Severus alone?" he asked Dumbledore.  
  
"There is a chance, but a small one. We must keep trying to find that chance. Otherwise I fear what the Ministry will do to Severus. The last time he was held by the Ministry he almost broke."  
  
"Was it that bad?"  
  
"He never did tell me what exactly happened, but he was never the same." Remus saw the distance look swim in Dumbledore's normally twinkling eyes as he remembered a part of a troubled past. "This trip will not be any better. Perhaps worse. But we need to keep Irvan's identity and assignment hidden as much as possible. If only to keep Harry safe."  
  
"Is he really doing that much?"  
  
"Yes. What he is doing should not be undervalued. I think until we can understand Harry's connection to Voldemort, we don't have much of a choice in the matter."  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
"Ron, have you seen Evan?" Harry asked as they sat down for lunch. It wasn't odd for the spider to go missing at odd hours of the day, but usually it was accompanied by thought before it left. This time he heard nothing telling him where Evan had gone, nor had he seen hide nor hair of the arachnid. In short he was concerned.  
  
"No." Ron's mouth was already full of food. "Why?"  
  
Filling his plate, Harry continued conversationally, "I lost track of him in Potions. At least he wasn't there when I looked for him."  
  
"So?"  
  
"Ron, it was a gift from Hagrid. I don't particularly want to loose it." Perhaps he said that a little too exasperated because Ron's expression suddenly turned defensive.  
  
"Harry, I'm sure he's not lost," Hermione consoled. "Magical creatures are intelligent. He's probably out exploring. He'll come back eventually."  
  
"I suppose so." He wish he knew what happened to the arachnid. He hoped he didn't leave it in Trelawney's tower. He could have sworn the spider was in his bag when they left. He knew he had seen Evan out and about during the lesson. * Evan, where are you? * he thought carelessly.  
  
* Exploring. * The intrusion of thought startled Harry yet again. He really should be expecting this by now.  
  
* What? * he responded out of instinct.  
  
* Don't tell me you have already forgotten about this little line of communication. * Evan sounded slightly amused, though he was still annoyed. When had Evan not been annoyed when they talked. It seemed impossible to find a time when he wasn't. Perhaps the spider was just generally annoyed about the entire situation.  
  
* Uh, no. *  
  
* Thought so. In case of your query, I have been wandering this castle out of curiosity. If you are worried about my ability to find my way back to Griffindor Tower, you shouldn't be. I am quite capable of returning to that location. *  
  
* Oh. Where are you now? *  
  
* Searching the third level for anything interesting. *  
  
* Oh. Have fun. *  
  
* Thank you. * Evan added wryly.  
  
Thinking over that conversation, he thought Evan sounded a little terse. He wondered if the spider had a run in with Mrs. Norris. It would have been amusing to see if the reaction was the same as Crookshanks. His thoughts strayed as Ron engaged him in a conversation about Quidditch and the possibilities for this year. It seemed a given that Griffindor would win the Cup again this year. The only question was how badly were the Slytherins willing to fight with the knowledge the would lose anyway. Malfoy was not a terrible Seeker, but he always seemed to be preoccupied with distracting Harry.  
  
He did notice Snape walk in late followed by Irvan, through his animated discussion. The two seemed to be deep in conversation themselves, to the point of ignoring the curious stares they received from the other professors. Harry was curious himself as to way the vampire would grace the Great Hall with his presence. But since Dumbledore did not seem concerned, then the man was there for a reason. He just wanted to know what that reason was. He also wondered what topic of conversation would be so fascinating. Then decided the topic probably wouldn't interest him. Especially if it was about potions. If it was about the Dark Arts, he might listen. 


	14. Chapter 14

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Chapter 14  
  
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"You never told me Sybil was working here," Irvan said. Severus was busy with his lesson plans and summer assignments and only gave the vampire half an ear. To think those children actually thought tapeworms were an object used to dispense a substance to attach other objects together. He was going to have to be more rigorous with the Muggle-borns.  
  
"What would that have accomplished?" he asked explaining why ringworms were not used as a substitute for tapeworms as ringworm was a disease not a potion's ingredient.  
  
"For one thing I would not have followed Harry up to her tower and I would never have had to talk with her, period."  
  
"I don't understand why you are so concerned." Trelawney was harmless. Harmless in the way that should she ever decide to act it would make her look foolish.  
  
"She is a partially trained vampire hunter. There is a great concern when it comes to her."  
  
"More so than Lupin?" Severus raised an eyebrow, but still didn't really pay Irvan any attention. True, he hadn't known Trelawney was from a slayer family. But he was never interested.  
  
"I would expect so. She knows a vampire is in her vicinity without having to smell it or see it. And it doesn't matter that I was in my animagus form. She spotted me immediately."  
  
"And how does this become a problem?" Might as well give this some thought. Merlin knows Irvan would not stop.  
  
"She now knows that I am here. She now knows why I am here. She now knows what I'm doing here. And she now knows what I'm doing to block Harry's visions of Voldemort."  
  
"So you have told her your suspicions?"  
  
"Yes. After having to explain to her the situation I am in, namely concerning you, I was naturally inclined to inform her of you mandates." Severus glanced up at the vampire's acidic tone. Irvan was currently pacing before the cold hearth. He wondered why that seemed to be Irvan's favorite place to express his frustration. "As to that, she decided to tackle the problem of determining what the connection really is. She came to the conclusion that they were not visions in the ordinary sense. But as to what it is, she has no idea.  
  
"Now, I don't mind too much that there is someone else who can work on this problem, but I mind greatly that it is Sybil. We have never had the best relationship. And I doubt we ever will. I am disturbed that there is a hunter on the premise. And I wonder if Dumbledore is even aware of her training. Though I am quite sure he would be thrilled to know about that.  
  
"The other thing that worries me is whether or not she will feel it necessary to inform Lupin of my presence, as I foolishly mentioned the conversation to him. But I find it very disconcerting to have another know that I am alive when it would be better for her to continue to believe I was dead. Are you even listening to what I am saying? I'm trying to explain to you that there is another person who could inform Voldemort of my existence and therefore your betrayal."  
  
"I am aware of that possibility, Irvan," Severus said dully from his paperwork. So what if the old fraud knew of their connection. The old bird never left her tower. And Dumbledore knew everything there was to know about every teacher in this school. "I will not be surprised if she goes to Dumbledore and explain everything herself. He will tell her not to say a word about Evan and your alternate identity will remain safe. As for Trelawney informing the Dark Lord, I seriously doubt she knows anyone in association with him. Perhaps she will uncover a solution that you are unable to."  
  
"So your telling me that there is nothing to worry about?"  
  
"There is everything to worry about. I'm just saying Trelawney is not one of them. Though, how do you know her anyway?"  
  
"Years ago, when she was sixteen, my mother decided to take revenge for my father's and sister's deaths. Does that cover everything?" Irvan began to pace again, betraying his frustration. After several blissful moments of silence, Irvan asked another question. "Why are you so unconcerned with the Ministry interrogations?"  
  
Severus barked out a laugh. Unconcerned? Far from it. "I have already been through that. And I know nothing Dumbledore can do will change their minds. "  
  
"So you are going to just sit back and wait?"  
  
"What do you expect me to do?" he spat in disgust. "Run away and hide? While that may appear to be the best option, the Dark Lord and possibly even Dumbledore would hunt me down. Not to mention the Ministry and their Aurors. Running is not an option. I can only hide from so many people for so long."  
  
"But why are you just letting them ruin your life?"  
  
"Perhaps because this life is a pathetic excuse for one. I don't like it one bit, but I can't bloody well change it, can I?" Severus stopped short as the tail-tale burning sensation centered on his left forearm. He stood to leave.  
  
"You're going to get yourself killed doing that," Irvan mumbled, just lower enough for Severus to understand. "And I thought brewing potions was dangerous." Irvan disappeared after that statement. The creature must have known he would have heard an earful if he remained.  
  
"Good riddance," Snape mumbled. He didn't particularly want to deal with the vampire at the moment. He knew good and well that Irvan hated the Dark Lord and probably would do anything to keep Severus from returning. Out of his own safety. Not Severus's.  
  
Not that that matter much to him. When it came to self preservation, Snape understood completely. He just wasn't in a position to make use of his instincts.  
  
He had his Master summoning him and he would go where his Lord commanded.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
"Is there something wrong, Ron?" Neville asked upon seeing his friend stare wide-eyed at Harry's bed. The Weasley looked up, but Neville couldn't interpret the expression. If he called it anything, he would have called it scared.  
  
"Harry," was the first word out of his mouth. Neville looked at the prone figure of the Boy-Who-Lived. Nothing unusual. He looked asleep. "We were talking then he got a strange look in his eye. Like when he has a vision of You-Know-Who. But Evan came and bit him. Now he's comatose."  
  
"Evan bit Harry?" That was shocking. Neville was of the opinion that Evan was some sort of tamed pet. But by the way Ron was eyeing the spider, one would think it was some dark creature biding his time.  
  
"That's what I'm saying. Bit him and Harry fell unconscious. I'm telling you that spider did something to Harry. It's not safe."  
  
"Harry's still alive, isn't he?" Ron nodded, still staring at his best friend. "Should we try to wake him?"  
  
"I don't think we could. Even if he was having a vision of You-Know-Who, we couldn't wake him."  
  
"Then should we tell Dumbledore?"  
  
"Maybe. We'll tell him in the morning. At least about Evan. Who knows what Harry is seeing."  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Bloody great. Called only because the Dark Lord wanted a potion brewed. Brewed for some victim they were playing with while they waited for the potion to finish. Severus wasn't in the best of moods to say the least. He was sweating over a complex potion late at night and wouldn't finish until early the next morning.  
  
And what was the potion for? It was a liquid Impervious meant to trap the strongest willed person in to obeying orders that contradicted his personal values. In other words, it was more than suggestion. It bordered on mind alteration.  
  
Of course Severus was proud of his work. He had created this based on a Dark Potion he had found in a forgotten text. He had even tested it in Voldemort's first reign of terror. If the potion wasn't dark, perhaps he could have written an article on it an won an award. Too bad his greatest achievements were only known to the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters. He doubted he could even tell Dumbledore some of what he had done. And most definitely not this potion.  
  
It would be Unforgivable if the Ministry knew of it's existence. And as the creator he would get a harsher punishment than anyone who used it afterwards. He supposed that was something to be proud of. Creating something worthy of the world's hatred and fear. His name would be synonymous with betrayal. Like what-his-name from the American Revolution, Benedict Arnold. Too bad the Americans won. He felt he was in a similar position. Train and serve with the enemy. Live as a double operative until you botch a major mission. Then go running back to your 'safe' side.  
  
If Severus survived his botched mission, whatever that might be, he would go running back to Dumbledore. He knew that. Arnold went to the British, smart fellow. The Americans would have killed him with no trial and no mercy. Severus expected as much from Voldemort. Even after he went back to the 'safe' side, Arnold was never trusted. Rewarded yes, but never trusted. It was the once and always deal. Severus got to look forward to that as well.  
  
Once and always. It never matter who you were or why you did it. Once and always.  
  
Moody had accused him of that once. As had Black. The Dark Lord wouldn't let him live to be called that. Black and Moody were wrong in the noun they used though. Death Eater was completely wrong. Traitor was more correct.  
  
And he was getting sidetracked.  
  
The potion needed to be finished before they brought down the victim.  
  
Now where was the dragon liver located. This might be his potions laboratory. It was his first and he felt comfortable here. Granted he felt safe at Hogwarts, but he was comfortable here. There was a difference. This was his laboratory. And every Death Eater who wanted to use it felt they had a right. He growled in annoyance.  
  
That meant the ingredients were moved, not replaced, and spoiled. Thankfully the Dark Lord realized this and had it freshly stock. Too bad the stockers knew nothing of where the ingredients were to go.  
  
He was rifling through the storage cabinet when he heard the door open.  
  
"You almost finished?"  
  
"Nearly, Lucius," he replied, head in the cabinet. He couldn't see the blonde haired man, which was fine, except Lucius Malfoy had a habit of stabbing people in the back. Severus however, thought it best to attempt to remain aloof. As though he trusted Lucius.  
  
There could never be a truer lie.  
  
"Would it be all right if we brought him in now?"  
  
"Tired of playing with him?"  
  
"No, but our Lord thought you would be ready by now."  
  
"I would be if the idiots who stock this thing knew where to put the dragon's liver."  
  
"The delay won't ruin the potion?"  
  
"Not at this stage."  
  
"Right. Bring him in and put him in the far corner," Lucius called to his men who were waiting outside the door. That did not inspire confidence in Severus. "So it appears our Lord has you on an all work and no play program." Severus grunted. That statement did not merit a reply.  
  
As he turned, he saw the backs of three men. Two Death Eaters, likely Goyle and Crabb, carrying a third between them. Severus didn't recognize the back of the bloody figure. Which meant they pulled a random man from the streets for this experiment. Not very original. Severus had expected them to kidnap some Ministry official. If Lucius had his way, Arthur Weasley would have been top on the list.  
  
"It appears you have more than one potion out here. Are you planning something else to accompany it?" Lucius ask gliding up to the worktable.  
  
"Possibly. Depends on the state of the victim," he answered. He hadn't planed on much more then was required, but he had set out more just for looks.  
  
"Snape?!"  
  
He froze. Great Mordrid kill him now. There was no way in Seven Hells Dumbledore would let him live after this night. 


	15. Chapter 15

_____________________________________  
  
Chapter 15  
  
____________________________  
  
Lucius just sat back and watched the drama unfold. It was amusing really. Two old enemies locked in the same room. He wondered what Severus would do.  
  
"Snape, you bastard. I knew you weren't to be trusted. I knew you were a Death Eater. Playing Dumbledore for a fool. Don't worry about me, you greasy git, I'll be sure to let him know. I might even drop a line in on the Ministry. They'd love to know about you. And to think they believed you were a spy for them. When I get out of here ---"  
  
Lucius waved a silence spell on the canine. "Merlin, Severus, is he always like that?"  
  
"Always. Probably worse now than when we were in school." Severus turned his back on the victim. For having your worst enemy chained before you, Snape was doing a marvelous job of keeping his routine. Ignore the victim until you had to force the potion down his throat. Severus never was one to play with his experiments. "Lucius, make yourself useful and give him those." Snape motioned to the green bottles at the end of the table.  
  
"Crabbe, Goyle, wait outside." The less of an audience Severus had, the more likely he was to open up. Picking up the bottles he walked over to the man they had chained to the wall. It was a nice spectacle to behold. Your captive hanging by his wrists, glaring angrily while mouthing wordlessly because of a silence charm. It couldn't be more perfect. "So what are these?" he asked conversationally, eyeing the liquid behind the green glass.  
  
"When combined they make an excellent truth serum. Far stronger than Veritaserum. Which is why it is illegal," Severus smiled slightly. It was always a wonder what made Snape pleased. Most of the time it was a potion of some sort, but the legality of a substance had the same effect sometimes. It helped when Severus had a hand in perfecting the final product.  
  
"And why are we using it on him," Lucius was still studying the potions.  
  
"Surely our Lord won't begrudge me the opportunity to have some fun with our," Severus's mouth quirked into disgust, "esteemed guest."  
  
"Of course not. He is planning on coming down for the final stage of tonight's potion."  
  
"Then we should be ready for him." Lucius caught Severus's eye as the dark, but pale man looked up. Lucius smiled. Severus would be smart enough to know he suspected him of betrayal. But Severus would also be smart enough not to say a word against him. Like being caught in a Catch-22. You are already suspected, but if you say anything in your defense people will suspect you of lying. A marvelous deal, if you weren't stuck in the middle. "Just give him the potions already, Lucius. We don't have all night."  
  
"Fine. I was hoping you'd be inclined to do so yourself," he shrugged. "But you are busy after all." He smiled as he heard Severus growl out a response. The man really needed to learn how to socialize. "So I gather these little beauties do more than have the man tell his darkest secrets."  
  
"Do you honestly think I would be so dull as that?" Severus groused over his cauldron. Raising his left hand, Snape gestured for five small cauldrons to rest beside the large on. Malfoy wondered if Severus was even aware he was able to preform wandless magic. Lucius doubted it. Otherwise Snape would use it to his advantage in battle as well, not some parlor trick to levitate cauldrons.  
  
Snape was definitely more powerful than he gave himself credit for. Which was fine by him. The less Snape knew about his power the better chance Malfoy had of exposing him as a traitor. Of course he had no real proof, but that hardly mattered. Nor did it matter if Snape really was a traitor. Granted the Potions Master was clever and the only adequate potions brewer Lord Voldemort had in his service, but Lucius hated any sort of competition. And Snape was the only one in the Inner Circle that could rival him. That meant he had to go.  
  
"Tell me, Lucius, what are you doing down here? I would have thought once the exhibition was over you would have gone home," Severus spoke in the direction of his work and could not see Malfoy's wicked grin. Their captive did.  
  
"The floor show was all well and good," he answered casually, watching the victim carefully. Any and all expressions would be helpful in determining Snape's relationship with the enemy. "But I have never really seen the show behind the curtains. Our Lord doesn't seem to think I could preform properly behind the scenes. I thought I would see how private viewings were done."  
  
"I'm surprised you choose this one."  
  
"You really shouldn't be. Old schoolmates do deserve to have a reunion at some point."  
  
"You were two years ahead of us. Reunions are normally for one class at a time."  
  
"Humor me." Severus shrugged and came around to the isolated corner. "Is it finished?" he managed to sound curious.  
  
"It needs to simmer. You might let the man exercise his tongue before we begin."  
  
"Why is that?"  
  
A strange glimmer passed through Snape's eyes. One Lucius had rarely seen in this calm and collected person. The look was almost feral. "Free his tongue and you will find out," he said in a low whisper.  
  
Lucius removed the charm and the results were immediate.  
  
"Snape, I'm going to kill you. No question. When I get out of here, I'm going to kill you, you slime-ball. Kill you and make god damn sure Dumbledore feels the same."  
  
"Listen to me, Black," Snape interrupted smoothly in a low hiss. His face was mere centimeters from Black's, making the intimidation technique quite effective. It was rather impressive. "You should be thinking about if you get out. Because if you do, you won't remember a thing of your stay, much less remember enough to tell that old fool my true side. Think of it this way. You'll be forever remembered as Lord Voldemort's strongest and most loyal supporter."  
  
"Why you--" For a man that looked half dead, Sirius Black did a marvelous job rattling his chains trying to strangle Snape. Commendable really.  
  
"He never was one for original insults, was he?" Lucius asked standing just inside the wards placed to prevent escape.  
  
Rising from his hunched position, Snape responded, "No, he never has been. Now you were interested in a private viewing. Pull up a chair, this might take a while. Black has always been as stubborn as a rock. And about as smart as one as well."  
  
"So what is on the program tonight?" Malfoy conjured up a comfortable wing-back for himself and waited, wishing he had a good red wine to enjoy as well. This would be good, though. Mortal enemies at each other's throats was always a pleasure.  
  
"Will you idiots shut up already! One would think this is a damned tea party!"  
  
"You mean it isn't?" Lucius tried his best innocent tones. They worked quite well in confusing the poor man further. It was always a wonderful technique.  
  
"Then quite talking as if I'm not here," Black answered, caught off guard.  
  
"But you aren't here, Black," Snape answered coldly. "All of Dumbledore's records place you somewhere in France, I believe. Looking for someone named," Severus's eyebrows narrowed as he faked remembering. "Francis Moliere, right?" Where was he going with that line of thought, Lucius thought.  
  
"You know damn well that's wrong. I was looking for Hans Grunther in Germany. You would know that already. Having read Dumbledore's papers." Black suddenly looked startled at what he said. "What the hell did you do to me?"  
  
"This is an interrogation, Black. You are not supposed to be asking questions."  
  
"I'll ask as many questions as I want, bastard," was all Black got out before he was screaming in agony.  
  
"That was interesting," Lucius pointed out. "He told you what you wanted without having the question. Why hasn't the Ministry learned of the benefits of this?"  
  
"My guess would be that they can't stand to be insulted, among other more painful annoyances for the victim."  
  
"You seemed to have developed a remarkable tolerance."  
  
"Comes with going to school with idiots like him and teaching sniveling little brats ten months of the year."  
  
"Surely Draco is not one of them."  
  
"On the contrary, no. He seems to be of the more attentive."  
  
"Good to hear. Now, why on earth is he in pain."  
  
"The potions won't let the victim talk out of turn once the questions have begun." Malfoy nodded his approval. "Shall I continue with the real questions? No doubt you already have answers for them, but I want to hear them from Black. Humiliation factor if you will."  
  
"By all means, continue."  
  
Lucius just sat back and listened. It appeared as though Snape did know how to relish tormenting prisoners.  
  
"Why were you looking for Grunther?"  
  
"Because Dumbledore wanted him back in England when he called the old gang together again." It appear that Black was struggling against the serum. Noble effort. But nobility never was much of a match against the Dark Arts. It always caused more pain than it was worth, too.  
  
"What condition did you find Grunther?"  
  
"Dead, you git. You Death Eaters killed him."  
  
"Now, how were you captured?" The feral grin had returned.  
  
"How the hell should I know? I was knocked upside the head the moment I walked into Grunther's apartment. That right there is the bloody worst way to get killed." Anger was flashing in Black's eyes as he was allowed to continue his thought. "Walked right into a bloody trap. I swear I'm going to personally kill the Death Eater who did that. Pity it wasn't you, Snape. But I planned on killing you anyway."  
  
"And your treatment upstairs? What, pray tell, did they accuse you of?" That was a good question. Lucius could see Black's face redden in attempt to explode trying to keep the information secret. Veritaserum was nowhere as exciting to watch.  
  
"Accused me of being a bloody traitor. Traitor to a pathetic group of lackeys I was never apart of in the first place. Voldemort even said something about me being his right hand man." Black was no longer yelling. The potions and line of questioning reduced his pride tenfold.  
  
"Doesn't look too humiliated to me." In truth there were subtle changes in Black's stance that suggested such. But Lucius did not see many. Not enough to claim the man was humiliated.  
  
"He is. Just look at him. Hunched shoulders. Eyes down cast. May not look it to you, but he is. Shall we get down to business? Black to you recall what your punishment was to be?"  
  
Black glared silently for several seconds before the serum took control. "Rejoin the Death Eaters," he said, gritting his teeth.  
  
"Since you are not going to do so willingly. We have a series of potions that will change your mind."  
  
"Never."  
  
"I was hoping you'd say that. Makes it more enjoyable to watch." Severus moved back to the work table and poured one of the small cauldrons in to a wooden goblet. "Tighten the chains, Lucius. I don't want him hurting himself. Black, you get five of these, every hour on the hour. Each are altered slightly based on your reaction. I have been told our Lord will come down for the final one and preform the necessary curse. Open wide. We don't want to disappoint our mutual Master, do we?" Snape poured the steaming black liquid down Black's throat and stepped back.  
  
Hurting himself? That potion seemed to cause more pain than the Cruciatus, which should have been impossible. But the way Black was clawing at the manacles seemed to suggest he would try to kill himself if he got free. Lucius watched fascinated. Perhaps he could find a way to keep Severus for a while long. If at all possible keep Severus for himself.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
Dumbledore was waiting patiently for his spy to return. He hated using that term. But it was accurate for all intensive purposes. It just sounded so degrading. He had received word from Irvan that Severus had left for the night. The vampire wouldn't say anything about Harry, which made him assume Voldemort didn't play a large part in the evening's events. However he had not questioned the vampire completely on that issue. He might have if it didn't appear as though Irvan was ready to sink his teeth into the nearest exposed throat.  
  
But he waited for Severus to return. It was coming on five in the morning now, with no sign of the wizard. It would have been a terrible sign for him had Irvan not made it clear Severus would be returning.  
  
On the stroke of five his office door opened. There wasn't much to see other than black robes and hair. Severus was using his hair as a screen. Not unusual when the man was uncomfortable. He stood in front of the closed door, waiting.  
  
"Come in and sit down, Severus." Albus noticed the hesitation, but did not comment. The Potions Master showed no visible sign of being abused, but that never meant anything. When the wizard sat in his usual seat in front of the desk, the Headmaster began with the questions, ignoring the normal ritual of lemon drops. "What happened?"  
  
There was a long moment of silence. It filled Dumbledore with dread. "Black." He stopped at the gasp of surprise emitted from the Headmaster. Albus would have sworn Snape flinched at the sound.  
  
"Go on."  
  
Severus stiffened and steeled his eyes to some point on the floor. This was not going to be good. He normally took that posture when reporting someone's death.  
  
"Black was capture," he said in a voice void of emotion. "He is still alive and will remain so. The Dark Lord wishes to use him in some trap concerning Potter. I don't know what kind of trap nor when it will be sprung. But Black will appear to be a Death Eater in it and get caught by the Aurors." The report stopped there when an owl flew in from Dumbledore's open window.  
  
The bird was unremarkable, which meant someone did not want it to be noticed. The seal on the letter was anything but. He knew that symbol.  
  
"Severus, go get some rest. I am sure it has been a long night." Snape rose and avoided all eye contact. Once he reached the door, Dumbledore spoke again. "We will continue this conversation latter." The younger wizard nodded once and left, leaving the Headmaster with the letter.  
  
He cracked the snake head seal and read the contents with a sinking heart.  
  
~ Dumbledore,  
  
As I am sure our mutual link has told you as I have ordered him to, I have in my possession something of yours. It is unlikely you will get him back safe and sound, but he won't know a thing. You, unfortunately, will not know what is in store for neither man knows anything. Enjoy your guessing game.  
  
~  
  
No signature. None needed. Voldemort was taunting him. He would grill Severus in everything he knew concerning Black. Particularly on how the Death Eaters found him. Evening was soon enough. 


	16. Chapter 16

_______________________________  
  
Chapter 16  
  
_________________________  
  
* Harry, pay attention! *  
  
* Can't you just leave me alone, Evan? I didn't sleep well last night. *  
  
* That is completely understandable, however I don't want to end up as a splatter on the wall. *  
  
* This potion can't do that, can it? *  
  
* It can if you don't watch what you're doing with the mandrake. *  
  
* I'm slicing it. What's the big deal? *  
  
* It's suppose to be grounded. *  
  
* Shut up, or I'll use you next. *  
  
* No need to get violent. I was just trying to help. *  
  
* A lot of good you're doing. *  
  
* Fine go to sleep and ruin your potion. See if I care. *  
  
Harry watched Evan back away from the cauldron and sit with a wary eye on the mixture.  
  
"Harry, are you all right, mate?"  
  
"I'll be fine, Ron. I just need to take a nap."  
  
"I'll say. You look dead on your feet."  
  
"Weasley, Potter. Stop talking and get back to work," Snape yelled from the front of the room.  
  
"What's gotten into him today?" Ron mumbled. "He's been like this all morning."  
  
"Hmm?" Harry wasn't really listening. He was too intent on trying not to fall asleep to worry much about conversation.  
  
"I said he's been snapping at us for no reason. Even at breakfast. Which you slept through. And Divinations, might add."  
  
"Ten points and a detention, Weasley. I told you to quit talking." Snape was now walking around the cauldrons, examining the students' work.  
  
"That was unfair. Harry, wake up."  
  
Harry turned his attention to the nudge that threatened to knock his elbow from its resting place on the table. If it had been moved, his head would have made a resounding thud on the table. "I'm awake," he mumbled. What was with everyone today? He had had a bad night and just wanted to go back to bed.  
  
"Bottle your potions and class is dismissed," Snape said from the front of the room.  
  
"That's odd. Why would he be letting us out early?" Hermione asked no one in particular.  
  
"Who cares? " Ron was enthusiastically bottling his potion. "The sooner we get out, the better. Right, Harry? Harry?" Ron nudged the dozing boy. "Harry, you can sleep later."  
  
"Right," he yawned. "What are we doing?"  
  
"Bottling."  
  
"But I'm not finished."  
  
* Should have paid more attention to your work, instead of sleeping. *  
  
* Oh, be quiet, Evan. *  
  
"Come on, Harry. Bottle a little of what you have and dump the rest. You're going to fail anyway."  
  
"I'm coming." Harry filled two jars of his unfinished potion and dumped the rest, just as Ron suggested, grabbed his bag and followed, rather sluggishly, his friends out of the potion's lab. Again he failed to notice the black arachnid sitting on the worktable.  
  
"Harry, I've been thinking about a way to find out who that S.O.S author is."  
  
"That's great, Hermione," he said around a yawn. "Can we do it after I take a nap?"  
  
"I thought you were serious about this."  
  
"I am. I'm just tired."  
  
"Come on, we're going to the library."  
  
"Hermione," Ron whined, "Why do we have to go there?"  
  
"Because I know Madam Pince has other books by an S.O.S and she might know if they are the same person. She might also know how to find out who the author really is."  
  
"Is that necessary? It's almost lunch time."  
  
"Almost. Meaning not yet. Honestly, I thought you both were interesting in knowing who wrote that book of yours." Hermione huffed a bit but continued to lead the reluctant pair of boys off to the library. "Madam Pince, could I ask you a few things?"  
  
The stick of a witch leaned over her desk to peer at the three students invading her library. "Ah, Miss Granger. What would you like to know?" Harry woke up enough to realize the librarian was behaving kindly to Hermione.  
  
"Well," Hermione began, "Harry got this book on potions over the summer and we were wondering who the author was. It was published under the person's initials. Do you know how we might be able to find out who he is?"  
  
Madam Pince looked at them curiously. "What is the name of the book and author?" Harry couldn't stop his surprise from showing. The librarian was actually wanting to help them.  
  
"Potions and Their Failures by S.O.S"  
  
"Hmm. There are a good many books by that name, but not all of them are by the same man."  
  
"Do you think you can tell us how to find out?"  
  
"The publishers only keep names of their authors. Not the real names of the witches and wizards behind the pen names. But I know one of the men who published under S.O.S. He donated many of our books."  
  
"Who was that, Madam Pince?"  
  
"Salvador Odysseus Snape."  
  
"Any relation to Professor Snape?" Harry asked. He had a sneaking suspicion there was.  
  
"I believe Salvador was Professor Snape's father." Harry was floored at the mere suggestion Snape had relatives. Intellectually he knew the man had to have had parents, but that admitted to Snape being human. He didn't think he was ready to believe that.  
  
"Uh, Madam Pince, why did Salvador Snape publish under his initials?" Hermione asked bring the topic closer to where they wanted.  
  
"He told me he had started while he was too young to publish under the Ministry standards. Later I believer he continued to publish controversial books under that name."  
  
"Do you know if he published this book?" the little redhead asked.  
  
"I'm not sure, but I don't think so. Salvador died about three months before it was publish. Poor man. The literary world lost a great mind that day."  
  
"How did he die?"  
  
"The newspapers said it was an Auror raid. His wife was a suspected Death Eater. I can only assume he died to keep his wife safe. As far as I know he wasn't suspected of anything. The only books he seemed to publish were potions books." The trio looked suitably sorrowful after hearing of that event. Harry felt bad about hearing this. He didn't think it was appropriate to know about someone's relative if that person did know you knew.  
  
"Do you know when some of these pictures were taken?" Hermione asked opening to one of the pages with an older photograph.  
  
"Let's see, I certain that one was from the mid-sixties. I remember Creves graduated in '67. This one looks like it is from the fifties." Madam Pince skimmed a few pages. "None of these look like they go past 1940. That was the year Professor Hidelberg became the Potions Professor. If I recall correctly he liked to have records of all of his classes. His favorite detention was having students figure out their mistakes after watching them replayed. They certainly learned more that way."  
  
"Thank you, Madam Pince. I'll come back if we have any more questions."  
  
"You do that, Miss Granger."  
  
Once outside the library, Ron breathed a sigh of relief. "Can we go down to lunch now?"  
  
"Ron, don't you even care about finding out who the author is?"  
  
"No, am I suppose to?"  
  
"You're impossible."  
  
"So, do you think it was this Salvador guy, Hermione?" Harry prompted. He was feeling less tired, but that meant nothing about the near future.  
  
"Possibly. I'm more curious about this Hidelberg professor. And Professor Snape."  
  
"Why Professor Snape?"  
  
"Because if Salvador published while he was underage, why wouldn't he let his son do so?"  
  
"You got a point there. Snape was in school at the time. Come on, I think Ron's hungry."  
  
"About time you noticed."  
  
* * * * * *   
  
Irvan was pacing through the halls muttering to himself. He was trying to figure out why he of all people was suppose to sub for a werewolf. Well, his mutterings were more along the lines of subtle curse thrown at Dumbledore and Snape. He was here to keep the Potter boy alive. No one said anything about substituting. It was degrading. Him, a proud vampire was reduced to teaching untalented children knowledge they would either never use or was of the variety their parents should have taught them.  
  
How did he get himself into these situations? He swore he had been cursed long before he tasted unicorn blood. How else would everything turn out so badly for him? He only half believed what the slayers said about him. None of that made any sense.  
  
Marked? How in the world could he be marked for something that would happen two thousand years after he was told about it. It was ludicrous. Just as being installed as a substitute teacher. For a werewolf, no less. Life could not get any worse.  
  
Then he remembered that it could. Hadn't he said the same thing after Grindelwald? Hadn't something worse happened? Wasn't he still recuperating from that? Everything could get worse. And he just happened to be the vampire that it happened to.  
  
It could get worse by having the idiotic Ministry take Severus, just because they wanted a scapegoat. Life was not fair by any means. It either liked you or it didn't.  
  
He began to wander back to Lupin's classroom because lunch was soon to be over. That was when he saw Harry Potter and his friends. He liked the boy, but he certainly couldn't make friends with him because he had no idea how to react with children that age. He hadn't been that age in millennia, even then he was never around people that age. Vampire compounds were unusual things. They were places where vampires could rest during the day; it was always out of the sun so you didn't have to sleep in a coffin. And socialize at night, before or after you went hunting. Also, the newly Turned would learn the social order, rules of hunting, and other things needed to survive.  
  
He hadn't been the only Born vampire at their compound. There had been his mother and father and another small family, though their child was a hundred years older than he. But he realized early on that they aged differently than the Turned. The difference was in that they aged period. The Turned appeared to remain the age they were when turned, while the Born actually went through stages of maturity. His parents had told him to drop the last two places of the human manner of counting once you reached a thousand and that would give you an age appropriate to your looks.  
  
But the problem with age was that the Turned were at different stages of acceptance of their situation. So when the Sires left their 'children' to others to be taught after they themselves had taught all they could, the Turned found it difficult to accept that a mere child would know more than they. So he and Doin were left with the older vampires.  
  
But what bothered him the most was that no one could answer why humans could be turned in the first place. That and why some like him and Doin weren't. He was always told that he was asking questions he didn't want answers to. He had a feeling that no one knew and whoever did was to afraid of what would happen if the population found out. So the secret was taken to someone's grave.  
  
"Hey, Irvan!" Harry's call brought him out of his remembrance.  
  
"Hello Harry," he returned pleasantly. He wasn't the type that was always confrontational like Severus. "Heading to class?"  
  
"Yeah. Well, I wanted you to meet my friends, Hermione and Ron. Guys, he's the one I told you about."  
  
Irvan looked outwardly friendly and pretended he was meeting them for the first time, but he was worried. "I'm wondering how much you told." Too much and his cover could be blown.  
  
"Just enough to they weren't scared." So the boy was smarter than he appeared. "So what are you doing out here?"  
  
"Headmaster Dumbledore thought I would be a good substitute for Professor Lupin. One considering the catastrophe with Professor Snape the other year, and two I just happened to be around."  
  
"Will you be teaching us something new?"  
  
"No, Professor Lupin has taken the trouble of writing out lesson plans this time. I think you are doing something about how the Ministry determines whether a spell is legal or not." He looked at the crestfallen faces. "It's not that bad. I'm sure we can find a way to make it a little more entertaining." He was going to have to if he wanted to stay awake through that class. 


	17. Chapter 17

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Chapter 17  
  
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"So you're alone this time," Sirius said as he watched Snape enter the laboratory. It was annoying to be strung up in a place and only half remember what was going on.  
  
"Nice to know you still have some of that memory left," Snape stated. The Potions Master immediately went about doing whatever needed to be done on the worktable. Sirius didn't really know what was happening, but he knew Snape was behind it all, and that Malfoy usually came to enjoy the aftermath.  
  
But this time, there had been no Malfoy, which he was glad of, only Snape, whom he could easily overtake once he figured out how to get out of the manacles. He was the only wizard ever to have escaped from Azkaban, so why was this proving to be so difficult? 'Perhaps it's because you're chained, and they're shoving some sort of potion down your throat,' he thought. Why had he forgotten that?  
  
"So, what are you working on?" he asked. He didn't really know what prompted his decision to start up a conversation, but it was the first time he had had someone to talk to who wasn't going to torture him. He was feeling kind of lonely down there. He had to be desperate if he was volunteering to talk to Snape.  
  
"Will you be quiet?" came the preoccupied and annoyed snap.  
  
"What? I was just curious."  
  
"Do shut up." Snape's voice was a little more commanding, but Sirius couldn't see much past his small indention. A little movement here a little there. He was in some corner looking out.  
  
"Sheesh, what's wrong with you?" he said aloud, mainly mumbling to himself for a lack of a more fulfilling activity.  
  
"I find it incredibly irritating to try and carry on a conversation whilst brewing a potion. So kindly shut up."  
  
Then why didn't Snape just cast a silencing spell like Malfoy had? Was that really a memory? Why had he forgotten it before? And why was he talking to Snape? And why on earth was Snape talking back?  
  
Snape equaled Death Eater equaled traitor equaled bad guy equaled slimy, annoying git.  
  
So it was either keep talking and risk the possibility of being silenced, or watch and hopefully remember something of what was happening. Of course maybe Snape was responding because he had forgotten whom he was talking to. He certainly wasn't looking in his direction. Maybe Snape thought Malfoy had entered. Certainly not out of the question. But unlikely.  
  
So he opted to watch. At least he no longer had the boring task of watching lifeless gray walls. But compared to watching Snape, he might well have been staring at the walls. Snape would stand motionless for what seemed like hours on end doing nothing but watching the potion simmer. Sirius thought he would fall asleep if it went on any longer.  
  
He must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew was that Snape was holding a cup out to him.  
  
"Drink this," was all he said.  
  
"What? You're not going to force it down my throat?"  
  
"Things would go a lot smoother if you would just drink it," Snape sounded annoyed, but when did he not?  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"A truth serum, Black. Now drink." Sirius complied. Vaguely he recalled having to drink some other sort of potion. Administered by Malfoy. He was fairly certain that was another memory. As was Snape standing around enjoying the show. Or was that Malfoy? He really shouldn't be confusing those two.   
  
Sirius found himself swallowing the potion before he realized it. "What d'you do that for?" he sputtered.  
  
"Merely took advantage of your lapse," Snape said as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "And by the way you lapped it up I'd say you were quite thirsty."  
  
"You'd be too if you were chained here day in and day out," he spat out. Sirius finally seemed realize that there was no reason in hell to be on speaking terms with his captor.  
  
"Marvelous, I see the potion is working already," Snape replied tonelessly. "Not that I ever doubted it."  
  
"You really need to get out more, Snape," Sirius taunted. "How many nights has it been?"  
  
"Far too many. Why can't you be a good dog and forget?"  
  
"Do I detect a hint of humor?" Snape ignored him. But at least Sirius wasn't bored out his mind anymore, nor was he being used to entertain Malfoy. He was able to bait Snape, though the object of ridicule did not seem to want to rise to the bait. Something told him that his insults weren't working either.  
  
"Do you know why you are here?"  
  
"No," he said before he thought about it. Must be a different type of serum. He vaguely recalled one that pained him the more he resisted. This one didn't give him time to resist. And the more he thought, the less he seemed to know about his situation. He honestly did not know why he was here. He could guess, and most likely not be too far off the mark, but he truly didn't know.  
  
"Do you know how you came here?"  
  
"No." Again he spoke before he could put his thoughts to words. How did he come here? The last thing he remembered was writing a letter to Dumbledore about his last completed mission. The one where he found Julian Mills strangled in his apartment. After that, nothing.  
  
"Do you know how long you have been here?"  
  
"No." He wanted to add that he already asked how long he had been there, however the serum wouldn't allow that.  
  
"Do you recall what happened yesterday?"  
  
"You and Malfoy were here," Sirius said, disgusted. "Forced me to drink some sort of potion. Nasty thing."  
  
"Do you recall why you had to drink that potion?"  
  
"No." Where was he going with this? Sirius doubted if he was going to get the answers out of Snape, who seemed content just to ask questions, with no desire for their answers.  
  
"Well, it seems you have forgotten something. Let us see if we can completely block out the rest of this ordeal," Snape said returning to his worktable.  
  
Sirius could only look at him, watching. He wanted to yell at Snape and strangle him, but the potion kept him as quiet as a mouse. He was trapped with no recollection of what had occurred, and his jailer was none other than Severus Snape. Sirius had nothing to go on. He hadn't even been concerned for his memory until Snape started questioning it.  
  
Snape was returning, holding a goblet full of another potion. Deja vu all over again. He knew he should know what was in that goblet. He should know, but that entire thought was lost to him. And he couldn't even protest! He knew this wasn't going to be good, but he couldn't do anything.  
  
"Drink this." And he swallowed whatever it was. It didn't taste that bad, but it did burn all the way down his throat. And not just burn. It felt as if some acid was eating away at his esophagus. He wanted to rip his own throat out just to stop the sensation. Chains clattered. His arms were chained to the wall. How could he bloody forget that?  
  
He must have blacked out. He was staring at the floor blearily as though trying to clear his head from some unexpected blow. Then he saw Snape. The git was staring at him as if he were nothing more than a lab rat. He was the cause of all of this. He just knew it. Struggling had no effect. He was still chained to the wall. Still? When and how long had been chained here? For that matter, why was Snape here? And where the hell was here?  
  
He would not panic. No, panic would be a bad thing. He would figure this out rationally. Too bad rationality had never been his strong point. He kind of liked panic. No. He would ask Snape if he had to. He would know why he was here.  
  
He snapped his head up at hearing the door open. Who would be coming in? Shouldn't Snape be leaving? But one look at that greasy traitor told him otherwise. He was bending his body to kneel. It was disgusting. The Snape he knew did not willingly fall to the floor in worship. It was degrading. Snape would sooner spit on you than bend knee. What he was seeing was impossible. And he couldn't even remark upon it.  
  
"What is the progress, Severus?" Voldemort asked, looking at him, and not at the man at his feet. Sirius tried to shrink from the red eyes boring holes through his skull.  
  
"There is one more dose for tonight, my Lord," Snape answered reverently. That was just sick. No self-respecting man would ever lower himself to that point. It was despicable. "After you perform the curse, my Lord, we can see how his memory and control stand up over the next day."  
  
"So," Voldemort started as he walked around Snape straight for Sirius. "You have been successful this time?"  
  
"It is hard to say, Master," Snape said rising. Sirius wanted to puke. It was bad enough to know your worst enemy was a traitor, but to see it in practice was another thing entirely. "Black has been extremely difficult."  
  
"So that is why it has taken you so long," came a dangerous hiss. "I need not remind you of the price of failure in this endeavor." Still Voldemort hadn't taken his eyes off Sirius.  
  
"No, my Lord," Snape said, half bowing. But Sirius had a hard time not focusing on the hideous face before him. So this was the Dark Lord everyone was afraid of. And they had a right to be. The man was down right terrifying to look at. Glowing red eyes and scaly skin. He didn't even look human.  
  
"You have a potion to tend to, Severus," Voldemort snapped.  
  
"Yes, my Lord." Sirius didn't see Snape move away, but knew he must have. He was too busy trying to look away from You-Know-Who. And not succeeding.  
  
"Now, Sirius," the Dark Lord hissed. Wait. He shouldn't be calling that monster THAT. "I believe it is time we had a little discussion about your position. Namely how it occurred to me to use you as a decoy. It is quite a marvelous thing, the press. So willing to believe the slightest rumor. I suppose that is why they were so willing to believe Wormtail. Though I never expected them to label you as my Right Hand and Most Loyal Death Eater. Surprised and amused. But rumors will be rectified. As you will be a Death Eater soon. No doubt before the week is out."  
  
No. He was not a Death Eater! He never had been. Pettigrew had framed him. He was certain of that. No amount of memory lapse would make him forget that. They had just better be glad they never let Wormtail near him. Snape was bad enough, but he had been friends with Pettigrew.  
  
"You don't like my little plan?" Voldemort asked, seeing Sirius squirm. Sirius wanted to scream bloody murder, but that potion Snape gave him was working too well.  
  
Someone cleared his throat to announce his presence. Thankfully Voldemort turned to see who was there. "My Lord," Snape began. "It is time for the next dose."  
  
"See to it."  
  
Sirius watched as his childhood enemy turned traitor approached. He knew that potion was not good. He didn't know why. Nor what it was. Just that he shouldn't drink it. How many times had he drunk it? Probably far too many. He would not drink it again. The goblet was put to his lips and he took the acid liquid into his mouth. But he did not swallow. He waited for the cup to be removed. He had to do this quickly. Snape lowered the cup and waited. It was too perfect. He spit the entire contents into Snape's face. Beautiful. The scowl the traitorous git was wearing was priceless. The only downfall was that the liquid didn't seem to harm his skin. Pity.  
  
"It is a wonder you have made it this far, Severus." Did the Dark Lord sound amused? Sirius shivered at the thought. "Perhaps he would make an exceptional Right Hand after all."  
  
Snape glowered even more at his master's comment. Sirius actually smiled. Humiliate the greasy git in front of the monster he worshipped. Snape, however, did not retaliate. He simply reached out his hand and waited for another, fresh goblet of potion to arrive. All through wandless magic. Spooky as it was, it was nothing compared to the look on Voldemort's face as he watched the exchange. The monster knew about that talent! It was actually smiling.  
  
He never heard the curse that forced him to convulsively swallow. Nor did he have time to protest against the potion. But he did hear Voldemort speak a curse. One he did not remember ever hearing. "Impero Pareo Quamtotius."  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
Severus Snape slammed the door to his chambers shut with a vengeance. He was surprised the wood didn't shatter with the force. It was the forth time this week that his report had been interrupted. He knew who had to be doing it. His master, the Dark Lord. It appeared his master did not want him to explain anything more than who was captured and that the man was still alive. He wished he knew what was in those letters.  
  
Maybe then he would know how to approach Dumbledore. Those letters were a blessing in one respect. They interrupted just before Dumbledore could interrogate him further. But they were a curse. He did not know what the letters contained and he suspected they were taunts. Words that would keep up suspicion. And they always interrupted when he felt ready to tell the Headmaster.  
  
He hadn't yet.  
  
"Rough night?"  
  
He spun toward the voice. He already knew who it was, but the thing still startled him. "Irvan! What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded.  
  
"I saw what happened tonight," the vampire said quietly. It was hard to detect any emotion from that creature, but if anything Severus would have called it concern. "And what happened four nights ago."  
  
"How?" was his first instinct, then realization hit. "Potter." He sunk into the nearest chair, which was conveniently located directly across from the vampire. "What does he know?" He decided he would be practical about the whole thing. For as long as he could.  
  
"He knows nothing, Severus," Irvan said, finally turning away from the cold hearth. "I've been able to keep him from seeing any part of the visions. And I have not told Dumbledore anything, if that is what you are wondering. But they have to know."  
  
"I know that, Irvan," he said testily. Of course he knew that. But he didn't want the accusations that were going to follow. "I've tried. But every time I speak to the Headmaster after a meeting, the same owl appears with a letter and then he kicks me out. I don't know how to, anyway."  
  
"I find that when you don't know how, one word at a time works best."  
  
Severus glared spitefully at the vampire. "I do not need you patronizing me."  
  
"And believe it or not, I'm not. I am merely telling you how to go about telling Dumbledore. And thanking the Gods of Mount Olympus that this is not my problem."  
  
"Telling Dumbledore face to face will not win me any favors."  
  
"Then find a way to tell him without speaking directly to him. If I am not mistaken the Ministry is keen to pull you away from Hogwarts."  
  
"I will not appear as if I am running away."  
  
"But isn't that what you are doing? Trying to run from what you know needs to be done?"  
  
"Irvan, for one time in your life, stay out of it," he warned. He wasn't too interested in having an animal give him advice.  
  
Unperturbed, Irvan turned back to the fireplace. "Things like this have ways of coming to light. And those ways are never to the benefit of the perpetrator. You should tell him on your own terms."  
  
"What did you come down here for?" Severus asked tiredly.  
  
"To tell you that Voldemort and Lucius are far too interested in your business with the Ministry. I believe he will use whatever information the Ministry does receive against you."  
  
"Thank you for the warning. I'll be sure to keep it in mind," he sneered.  
  
"Severus, you should take this seriously. Why in the name of Hades are you playing this so lightly?"  
  
"Because I already know that Lucius and the Dark Lord would prefer to see me rot in their dungeons, but the Dark Lord knows he could never get someone as close to Dumbledore as I am. He likes to know that he is giving Dumbledore the information that he wants to give." Severus smiled cruelly. "If anything, the only thing keeping me alive is my potions skill and my place at Hogwarts. And until they can prove that I am actively against them, they'll do nothing but regulate information."  
  
"But the Ministry?"  
  
"Eventually they will listen to Dumbledore, once they discover I know nothing. They can't pin any of the recent murders on me and they know it."  
  
"Blood and bloody ashes," Irvan muttered. "I still don't understand how you can be so calm about all of this."  
  
Severus briefly considered replying, but decided against it. His time would be put to better use with a shower and a bed. He wanted some sleep after tonight. But to his horror, Irvan's words haunted him. 'Things like this have ways of coming to light.' Merlin burn him alive if that wasn't true. But how do you go about telling the only man who trusts you that you created the mind-controlling potion that is turning you favored golden prodigal son into a fully bound servant of his arch enemy? And he still didn't know how Black was going to be used.  
  
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I would like to thank to my beta, The Goddess Artemis. 


	18. Chapter 18

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Chapter 18  
  
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"Severus, it's been a week since Sirius was captured. Surely you know what is happening." Dumbledore was reaching his wit's end. He knew Sirius was still being held captive, but no one except himself and Severus seemed to know anything about it. He was worried about the man. And he still didn't know how to inform Harry and Remus that their friend had been taken by Voldemort. He wanted to, but didn't think they needed the hysteria that would ensue.  
  
"I don't know, sir. All I know is that he is alive and will be released sometime soon," Severus answered quietly. They were in the corridors and Albus knew his Potions Master disliked discussing these things in public, but he was anxious for an answer.  
  
Severus walked slightly behind the Headmaster as they made their way to the Great Hall for the evening meal. It was his usual position and Albus could not get Severus to explain why. The younger wizard would either shrug or apologize and do nothing to change it. He suspected it was related to his odd desire to keep up formalities.  
  
"Come, Severus. I have a feeling the house-elves have outdone themselves tonight," he said, steering away from the oppressive topic (not that Severus had any interest in tonight's menu). He found that if he stayed on that line of thought too long, Severus would blatantly ignore his requests.  
  
They sat down in their seats, Dumbledore at the center and Snape to his left next to McGonagall. Normally Severus would have found his way to the end of the table in order to avoid all attempts at conversation, but tonight Albus hoped to discuss something of Voldemort's activities, among other topics relating to the Dark Lord and Ministry coverup. The dinner began, full of the sounds of the students' chatter, clinking of utensils, and other noises which always accompany a meal.  
  
Barely ten minutes into the meal, the large double doors swung open for some uninvited guests. Ministry officials and Aurors marched down the center aisle to the staff table. There was a collective gasp and much whispering as the students wondered what was going on.  
  
Dumbledore knew this little show held no joy for anyone at the school, and he had his suspicions as to why they were there. "Mr. Chouvlen," Dumbledore greeted as he rose. "What brings you here?" He might as well try to gain control of the situation before it got out of hand.  
  
"You know very well why I am here, Headmaster Dumbledore," said the nondescript Minister of Internal Affairs. "I am here to take one of your staff in for questioning." Students as well as the staff listened closely and curiously, waiting to hear who. The silence was now overpowering as no one dared to whisper for fear of missing a word. This was hardly the place for the scene that would develop. He needed to move this conversation out of the Great Hall, but the large number of Aurors present would present a problem as Fudge had no doubt sent them to make a statement.  
  
"I am certain you could have chosen a less public time and place for your assignment," Dumbledore mentioned in a less than friendly tone. He would not be rude to this man, but he could certainly show his dislike for the manner in which he conducted his dealings.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore, I have just received the warrant and I intend to carry it out immediately." Chouvlen paused as he turned his attention to the other teachers at the staff table. One in particular. Dumbledore knew which one the minister was searching for and couldn't help but feel that he had failed.  
  
"Mr. Chouvlen, perhaps we can discuss this in my office."  
  
"Professor Dumbledore, your students have a right to know what their teachers are." Dumbledore felt his heart sink; he had wanted to keep this knowledge from the children, mainly for his own plans but also to keep as much hatred from entering the student/teacher relationships as possible. Some things were just not destined to be.  
  
The whispering increased. Harry knew most of the students were thinking of Remus Lupin's being a werewolf. He knew, however, that this man was talking about a different professor. He suddenly wished he had never overheard Mr. Weasley.   
  
"This is not the proper place, Mr. Chouvlen," the Headmaster reiterated.  
  
The minister ignored the Headmaster and motioned the dozen Aurors to stand ready. "Severus Osiris Snape, you are wanted for questioning for the murder of retired Auror Arabella Figg." Harry was expecting another collective gasp of surprise, but there was only shocked silence. So much for Hogwarts' sense of melodrama.  
  
Sparing a glance to the head table, he saw that McGonagall had placed a light restraining hand on Snape's shoulder. It was a good thing too, Snape himself looked furious, ready to hex the nearest Auror who got in his way along with every single ministry official idiotic enough to enforce that warrant. Even though it seemed as though McGonagall's hand would not stop the enraged wizard, it was enough to keep him aware of reality. "You will turn in your wand and come with us."  
  
"I must protest. You have no evidence against Professor Snape." Dumbledore had an angry edge to his voice that Harry hadn't heard before.  
  
"He is a Death Eater, Professor Dumbledore," Chouvlen said calmly. There were now many trails of whispers running down the House tables. Why were they doing this to Professor Snape? Remus had told him that someone from the Ministry would be coming to ask questions. Of course he had to explain how he had overheard Mr. Weasley discussing the matter with his wife, which hadn't been as awful as he had thought. At the time Harry had just assumed the Ministry would use the opportunity to question both Professors Lupin and Snape. This was entirely unfair.  
  
"He was, Mr. Chouvlen. I know you are able to look up his last trial."  
  
"That trial counts for nothing with these new uprisings. Snape will be coming with us."  
  
Dumbledore looked ready to draw his wand when Professor Snape stood with enough force to knock over his chair, thus gaining the attention of the entire hall. The Aurors appeared ready to draw also, watching both Snape and Dumbledore for a reason, even a hint of a reason.  
  
"There is no point in facilitating your removal as well, Headmaster," he said barely loud enough for Harry to hear. Dumbledore said nothing but looked to the former Death Eater in his charge as though he were mad.  
  
"Will you come quietly, Snape, or do you intend to resist?" Chouvlen sounded almost pleased with the thought of fouling an attempt to resist.  
  
There was a long moment of silence where Harry was certain Snape would have preferred to take on all twelve of the Aurors and the three Ministry officials rather than go quietly. Part of Harry was almost wanting the Potions Master to say, 'Don't be stupid, of course I intend to resist.' But logically Harry knew Snape would not do so in front of the entire school. The professor gave an unreadable look to his Slytherins and took a quick survey of the Great Hall before responding. "I will come quietly. I have no intentions of allowing you to use force in front of so many minors."  
  
"Turn in your wand," Chouvlen said stretching out his hand to receive the weapon. The moment was suspended in time. Snape appeared to be calculating his choices. Finally he removed his wand from his sleeve. The tension in the air thickened as the Aurors prepared to disarm the professor should he decide to use his wand. Holding the piece of wood in the center and away from his body, Snape slowly brought it out and held it for McGonagall to take. The Gryffindor Head of House seemed perplexed for a moment before relieving Snape of the burden.  
  
Snape walked around the staff table fully aware that all eyes were on him. Waiting for him to react violently. The stunned silence lasted even longer as the Aurors forcefully bound the professor's arms behind his back and shoved him out the door. Contrary to popularly held rumors, the student body did not jump for joy now that their most feared professor had been bodily removed from the school. They were all still in shock that he HAD be bodily removed. They had never suspected such an event would ever happen.  
  
With a resounding thud, the shutting doors signaled a beginning to the wild whispers. Harry looked to the teachers for guidance. But even they were shocked by the night's proceedings, staring at the double doors as if they could will the Ministry to send back their lost teacher. The chatter dwindled as one by one the Slytherins stood, then in two solid lines walked out of the Hall in silent protest. That was the definition of House loyalty.  
  
Murmurings that were rising at the disappearance of Slytherin House were squashed when most of the upper-class Ravenclaws followed. Close on their heels were a smattering of Hufflepuffs, all reputed to enjoy potions. But this wasn't just a protest of Snape's removal. Many of the Ravenclaws had no liking for potions or Snape. They were protesting the method of removal also. Harry agreed with that. The Ministry had no right to take a professor in front of his students, accuse him of things they knew were completely false, then treat him as though he had resisted arrest. The situation was appalling.  
  
Harry stood and without a backward glance walked out of the Great Hall.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
This couldn't be happening. Irvan watched the grim procession from the shadows. This just wasn't happening. There was no way Dumbledore would just let them take Severus. He knew what he had seen in the Headmaster's mind. The old man was very protective of those he cared about. And there was no mistaking the affection the old wizard felt for Severus. In other words, this could not be happening.  
  
Irvan stayed until the Aurors disappeared from sight. Counting the number of 'accidental' bruises Severus received. Severus was going to Azkaban and there was nothing he could do about it. Talk about useless protection. He couldn't do anything because Severus told him not to. And he had not been thinking about the Ministry! Stupid! Irvan was ready to kick himself for not foreseeing this. Wasn't that Sybil's job? Why hadn't she mentioned anything to him? Sweet mother of Zeus, this just couldn't be happening.  
  
And Dumbledore thought this didn't concern him. If he had not known this would happen, he would have tried to stop it. He needed to have a talk with Dumbledore. Mainly about how he should never have let this happen.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
"Yes, Minerva. I am aware that the entire Slytherin House is lacking guidance, but the main thing we need right now is a Potions professor. I am certain Sinistra won't mind taking up some of the Head of House's duties." Dumbledore tried to reason with the Gryffindor Head of House. He had never thought the Ministry would be so bold as to just come in and take the offending teacher. On all levels of courtesy that was wrong.  
  
He leaned back in his chair, stroking his beard while deep in thought. He had called the remaining Heads to his office immediately following Snape's removal. He had needed to sort things out before he announced things to the students. He would have to wait until morning anyway, since a little over one-forth of the student body had retired to their common rooms. Their little display was not lost on him, but he doubted if it would do any good.  
  
With Severus gone, they were short a talented professor and a mediator for the most troublesome House in Hogwarts. Where had he gone wrong in his discussions with Fudge? There was absolutely no need for them to come in acting as if they were conducting a raid. It was unlikely the students recognized it as such. He knew Severus had. If it weren't for Minerva things would have gotten bloody.  
  
"Now, I'd like one of you to go down and see to the Slytherins and try to answer their questions as best you can," Dumbledore said quietly.  
  
"Albus," Sprout began, "Those children have never listened to any of us. Only Severus. I don't think they'll be inclined to listen now that he is gone."  
  
"I'm afraid that is true, but we must try." A knock on the door interrupted his speech. "Come in." The door swung open to reveal Irvan, looking slightly confused and angry. Both were emotions Dumbledore expected from the vampire. "Ah, Irvan, I was wondering when you would come," he sounded cheerful. But then Irvan was the answer to many of the difficulties they were facing.  
  
"I'm sorry for intruding. I did not intend to interrupt," Irvan said.  
  
"You're not, by any means. I have heard good things about you from the Slytherins. It appears they approve of you far more than they do Remus. And I was hoping you would not mind taking on some of Severus' duties while he is away."  
  
Dumbledore felt a satisfaction at perplexing a vampire. "Pardon?"  
  
"Albus, you can't be serious," Minerva echoed some of her previous sentiments towards this creature. "He is hardly a certified teacher." Dumbledore knew that only a voiced concern, her fears ran deeper. Including the children's safety.  
  
"I know that, Minerva. But substitutes are not required to be certified." He could not answer her other concerns at the moment for the other two Heads did not know Irvan's secret.  
  
"But as Head of House?" Flitwick brought up the next protest.  
  
"I'm inclined to agree with them, Professor," Irvan stated, startling Sprout and Flitwick. They must have thought he was eager to take the job.  
  
"Nonsense, you will do an excellent job." Dumbledore watched as the other Heads waited for Irvan's response. He knew none of them were keen on taking Severus' position and all knew that Irvan had faired exceptionally well with the Slytherins while filling in for Remus Lupin. All of them had heard the Slytherins discussing those particular lessons.  
  
"Then I suppose I shall have to take you up on your offer," Irvan said slowly.  
  
"Excellent. Now we just need a consensus on what and how to tell the children. I think talking to them tonight would be in order, as well as an official statement at breakfast." Everyone in the room nodded their consent and the discussion went to what had happened and what to tell the children about Severus' position as a Death Eater. The latter would cause no end of trouble.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
"Harry?" Ron was worried to say the least. He had no idea why his friend left the Great Hall so abruptly, along with Hermione, who had followed him. He wanted no part in a protest for Snape, but he needed to make sure Harry was all right, so he left a bit sooner than the mob. Harry had a habit of not saying anything when he was troubled. When Ron had mentioned the incident with Evan, Harry had simply shrugged it off, saying Evan wouldn't harm him in any way. That did little to ease Ron's thoughts on the matter. "Harry? Are you up here?"  
  
"Over here, Ron," Harry called from a chair next to the fireplace.  
  
"Why'd you leave so soon?" Ron asked. Hermione was sitting in a chair opposite Harry, reading. She looked up and waited for the explanation. Ron suspected she already knew what was going on but wanted Harry to tell them.  
  
"What happened to Snape," Harry stated. "They had no right to do that."  
  
"I don't see what the big deal is. What they did was perfectly legal."  
  
"Ron, it's the principle of the thing," Hermione defended. "The fact that he was taken in front of the entire student body. You would think that they would have the sense to serve the warrant after dinner when Snape was in his office. At least they wouldn't have embarrassed him."  
  
"But it's just Snape. That's how all raids are conducted."  
  
"I don't care if it's just Snape," Harry declared. "He probably deserves to be questioned. But they didn't have to do that in front of us."  
  
"Is that all that's bothering you? I thought you had eaten something funny."  
  
"Ron!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"You just don't understand," Hermione sounded disgusted. She was right, however. Ron did not know why they cared so much about Snape's removal. It was a long time in coming, he thought.  
  
"Ron," Harry's voice caught his attention. It was a steady patience. "I know you don't believe Snape is trustworthy, but Dumbledore thinks so. Most likely whatever he had planned for Snape is blown. I just don't agree with how they 'abducted' him. Don't you see how rude that was?"  
  
"Well, I guess so," Ron didn't sound convinced. "But that's how it's done."  
  
"I guess we'll just disagree on this."  
  
Ron shrugged. He didn't understand why they were upset about the scene; that was how things were. Raids were conducted whenever the Ministry had the warrant, not for the convenience of the Death Eater or other lawbreaker. At least, that was what his father and Percy kept telling him. He didn't feel bad at all at watching Snape dragged out like a criminal.  
  
Instead of trying to carry on a conversation, he sat across from his friends, thinking. And was interrupted when the whole of Gryffindor burst through the portrait hole.  
  
"Did you see the look on his face? I thought he was going to hex them on the spot!"  
  
"Is he really a Death Eater? Mom and Dad are going to freak when they hear about this."  
  
"No kidding. Always knew he was evil, but that! What was Dumbledore thinking?"  
  
"Do you think he's coming back?"  
  
"Doubt it. My father told me that when the Ministry takes someone in they usually don't come back."  
  
"Deserved it if you ask me."  
  
"I'm surprised they took this long."  
  
"Settle down, please," Professor McGonagall's voice rang out above the hubbub of accusations and questions. "May I have your attention, please. There are a few announcements I have to make regarding the raid you witnessed at dinner this evening." Suddenly all heads were turned in her direction. They might not be interested in the truth of things, but anything to keep the fires of rumor going.  
  
"As I am sure you all know, Professor Snape has been taken in for questioning. The Headmaster believes for a fact that Professor Snape is innocent of the charges brought against him in the murder of Arabella Figg."  
  
"Professor, is Professor Snape really a Death Eater?" someone interrupted. Many mumbled their mutual desire to have that question answered.  
  
"He was tried and acquitted on Headmaster Dumbledore's vouch after You-Know-Who's first fall. As far as I know he has not made any contact with him this time around, So it is safe to assume he is no longer in You-Know-Who's service."  
  
"What about potions?"  
  
"That position will be announced at breakfast tomorrow." She paused as if waiting for more interruptions.  
  
"How long will Professor Snape be gone?"  
  
"We do not know, but Professor Dumbledore is in communication with the Ministry and is trying to make Professor Snape's time being held as short as possible."  
  
"Is he in Azkaban?"  
  
"Very likely." The mood in the room became suddenly morose. They all remembered Hagrid's brief stay there. "Any further questions?" No one spoke. "Now I am certain I don't need to tell you how serious all of this is. When you write home, I don't want any of you telling half truths. I am perfectly aware that most of you dislike Professor Snape, but failure to inform your parents of his acquittal will serve no purpose. I will be sending home letters informing your parents of this evening's proceedings. Now, if there is nothing further, I bid you goodnight."  
  
* * * * * * * *   
  
"Professor Irvan! What are you doing here?" Draco looked up as the Head Boy directed everyone's attention to the intruder. Though they all agreed that Irvan was less of an intruder than any of the other professors.  
  
"Brentwood, correct?" Irvan asked in his characteristic flowing tone.  
  
"Yes, sir, but what are you doing here?"  
  
"I suppose there is no point in my delaying this announcement. Headmaster Dumbledore has requested that I take up the position of Head of Slytherin until Professor Snape returns."  
  
"So he will return?"  
  
"Are you teaching potions, too?"  
  
Professor Irvan raised a hand for silence and received it. Draco doubted if the room would listen to anyone other than Snape and now Irvan. "As far as I know he will return, seeing as how he had no part in the murder of Arabella Figg. And yes, I will also be teaching potions in Professor Snape's absence."  
  
"So he's innocent."  
  
"For that charge, yes."  
  
"Does that mean he is a Death Eater?"  
  
"He was tried and acquitted after Dumbledore vouched for him."  
  
"So you don't know if he is or isn't."  
  
"I am not allowed to go into his present position, but as far as I know he is not."  
  
"You're just repeating back to us what Dumbledore told you to say," Draco announced.  
  
"Correct." At least the man won't lie to us, Draco thought. "Dumbledore thought it best if every student was given the same information. Which I believe is a good idea, as there will no doubt be reporters flooding the grounds by morning. It wouldn't do for students to be spreading rumors."  
  
"What are they going to do to him, Professor," a small first year girl asked quietly. Draco knew what was going to happen, as did most of the rest of the House. They knew because this had happened to someone in their family. Being in the House termed the Dark Lord's Breeding Ground led to such accusations.  
  
"They are going to take him to Azkaban, and there the Aurors are going to ask him what he knows about the circumstances surrounding Arabella Figg's death, and probably ask him about several other things that have nothing to do with Figg." Professor Irvan sounded extremely calm as he told the girl this. He was purposely ignoring the part where the Aurors try to beat the information they want out of their prisoner. And how interrogations were an ugly sight for those who were innocent but believed to be guilty. And how the Aurors would attempt to find any way possible to make the prisoner guilty of something.  
  
The somber mood deepened as they processed this information.  
  
"But Professor Snape didn't do anything," the girl protested, slightly louder this time. Draco thought her name was Fandrom. He wouldn't even try to guess her first name. "He did everything they asked him to, and they still acted like he was going to kill them."  
  
"I'm afraid, Nautica, that that is how Auror raids are conducted. They came in thinking Professor Snape would retaliate and left thinking the same thing. I do not doubt that the official word will be that Professor Snape did retaliate."  
  
"But that's unfair!"  
  
"And that's why you walked out during dinner."  
  
"Hey," a sixth year, Justin Moor, called from the window holding a letter. "My younger sister in Ravenclaw just wrote saying once we left half of her house followed! So did some Hufflepuffs; the ones who like potions. But get this, out of the very few Gryffindors to leave, one was Harry Potter!"  
  
"Potter! Why would he walk out?"  
  
"Everyone knows he hates the Professor. And I know for a fact that the feeling's mutual."  
  
"Are you sure he didn't just eat something bad?"  
  
"Probably got a headache. You know, the ones that supposedly come from his scar."  
  
Draco sat confused. Potter walked out? Why would he do that? And while Draco hated the Boy-Who-Lived vehemently, he wasn't stupid enough to believe Potter left just because of his scar. If that were the case, he would have gone directly to Dumbledore. No, he was quite certain Potter walked out in protest, even if his friends didn't. But why did Potter feel so strongly about the removal of Professor Snape?  
  
"Er, Professor," Brentwood was speaking again. "I think we should inform you that none of us intend to go to dinner until Professor Snape is returned. Part of the protest, we decided."  
  
"Perfectly understandable. I'll go talk with the house-elves and see if they would send dinner to the common room instead of the Slytherin table."  
  
"You mean you're not going to go to Dumbledore first?"  
  
"I don't see why I should. This is your protest. And while I agree with you wholeheartedly, I have a feeling Dumbledore might force you to come to dinner. I doubt he would approve of providing dinner in the common room."  
  
"Do you think it will work?"  
  
"No way to know but to try. Anything else you wish to discuss?"  
  
"No, Professor. See you in the morning."  
  
* * * * * * * * *   
  
Dumbledore was siting behind his desk, trying to find a way to release Severus Snape when something pecked at his window. Absently he waved his wand to allow the owl in. It didn't really occur to him that it was a little late for mail.  
  
The bird landed directly on his paperwork, rudely demanding attention. Dumbledore looked up and immediately recognized Severus' raven. The bird was hardly ever used to deliver mail, so to say the least he was surprised. "Good evening, Olin. What have you brought me today?" he asked the sleek black bird. Olin carried thick parchment in his beak and neatly dropped in the Headmaster's hand before flying off again. "Yes, I suppose it is bedtime," he mused as he watched the Olin disappear into the night.  
  
He cracked the serpent seal.  
  
~ Professor Dumbledore,  
The following pages include a confession of sorts. It contains what I have been unable to tell you for the past week, due in part to the interrupting owl that forever appears right before I can explain. If you are reading this it means I have left for an unknown amount of time and Olin thought it best to bring this to you. If Irvan is correct, I am on my way to Azkaban because the Ministry saw fit to remove me. Though I have to question if that is his prediction or Trelawney's. For all of his dislike of the witch, it seems she might be helpful in curing Potter of his visions.  
  
First of all let me repeat my belief that Sirius Black will be released at some point soon and returned to you. When I last left, he was alive if forgetful. I am sorry to say that the loss of memory is due to a potion I created. And that potion when combined with a specific curse will render the victim thoughtless, without comprehension of what he is doing. I told you I thought Black would be used in a trap, and I believe this is how it will be done, whatever they decide. ~  
  
Dumbledore stopped in his reading. He stopped because he couldn't grasp the fact that what was happening to Sirius was a direct result of Severus' actions. Why hadn't Severus told him sooner? He was trying to squash the feeling of betrayal as he continued reading. No matter what Severus had to say, he would not jump to conclusions based on just two paragraphs. But he wanted to, so badly.  
  
_________________________________________  
  
And here's recognition for my beta, The Goddess Artemis.  
  
And a great many 'Thank you's to all over the readers for making it this far. As much as I can, I'll get done before book 5 is out. 


	19. Chapter 19

Sorry about not getting this out sooner. I had an argument with myself on how to proceed after the letter. Hope this makes up for lost time.  
  
______________________________________________________________  
  
Chapter 19  
  
_____________________________________________  
  
Dumbledore looked up and saw the dawn breaking. He hadn't left his desk all night, spending the entire time reading and rereading the letter Severus Snape had sent. Shocked was the least of his feelings.  
  
Severus had left him with the entire list of ingredients and instructions for making the potion he had created, as well as the Dark Potion and Curse combination that had begun his research. Dumbledore readily admitted that he was not the best when it came to potions, but he did know a great deal about the Dark Arts and other black magic. However, the curse was completely new to him. He would have gone to Remus, except the man would want to know why he was asking, and Dumbledore would have to tell him about Sirius. Which would lead him down a long road he was not ready to travel.  
  
~ Impero Pareo Quamtotius. The incantation is translated as follows, which will give some insight on what it does, if not how it works: command obedience completely. The victim is completely subjected to the whims of the caster. It is far more complicated and stronger than the more commonly used Imperius Curse. It is unlikely that you will find this in any book at Hogwarts, and you will most definitely not find a reference to the companion potion.  
  
When used in conjunction with the potion, the curse overwhelms any willpower the victim could exert over the Imperius alone. The potion works by breaking down those barriers used for resistance, and also by building barriers preventing retrieval of the memories of the time when the curse is active.   
  
As it is, I have not yet found the counter curse. I will continue to search as I am able. Perhaps I'll have some luck and overhear the Dark Lord casting it, but I find that unlikely. I have a book in my home, Ciara Aloysius, which should prove fruitful, but I am incapacitated at the moment and cannot retrieve them.  
  
I doubt you will forgive me for this creation, even though it is possibly my greatest achievement, along with many other potions I never intended to mention. But should you wish to know, I will reveal another secret I've kept from you. ~  
  
Albus Dumbledore had to put the letter down, again. Severus had never intended to tell him about his work under Voldemort. He wasn't too surprised about that, but he was extremely disappointed. Disappointed that Severus had never trusted him enough to share this knowledge. Though looking back, Albus probably would have made the man publicly reveal those potions.  
  
The Potions Master was brilliant. It was just a shame that he put his talents to a Dark use.  
  
But not to be trusted! Where had he gone wrong with the boy?  
  
He couldn't shake that feeling of betrayal. Severus had effectively poisoned one of Dumbledore's own.  
  
He skipped to some of the last lines of the letter.  
  
~ Yes, I understand what I did to Black is unforgivable, and I do not ask you to attempt to forgive me, mainly because I enjoyed having a level of control over him. It was something I had desired for a long time. But believe me, Albus, when I tell you if I could have altered the potion and still received a shadow of similarities, I would have done so. The potion I so lovingly created cannot be mimicked. Doing so would not have achieved any results and my precarious position would have faltered.  
  
I do not doubt that you would have preferred the mimicry and that I remove Black from the Dark Lord's hold. While that would have been best for Black, I knew that he would be released alive the moment I saw that he would be the one to take the potion. Your Gryffindor is essentially unharmed. I have cured what I could of his injuries, and he will have no recollection of his stay. ~  
  
Dumbledore thought back to the notes Voldemort sent him all last week. They had arrived just as Severus was giving him information. He had always sent Severus away. Now he wished he had kept the young wizard in the room while he read; the man might have had some insight on what Voldemort was thinking.  
  
No. Severus did have an idea of what Voldemort was thinking. It was all here in this letter. And it was in the brief statements he made before the interrupting owl. Sirius was being used as a trap. But how? And was it possible to detect the Dark Curse that was or would be controlling him?  
  
~ Professor, I should tell you, though you might already know, Potter and Lupin know nothing of Black's capture and detainment. I feel it might be best not to tell them until I can find a way to dissolve the memory blocks. It would be hard for Black to comprehend, not remembering his own captivity. But as always, I defer to your judgment. ~  
  
He marveled at how Severus never directly insulted Sirius. There were plenty of snide remarks hidden away in direct statements. It made him wonder if Severus had changed his mind about Sirius, but then he recalled the statement about how he 'enjoyed having a level of control over him.' No, there was no drastic change of opinion. But there did appear to be an attempt at controlling outright hostilities.  
  
~ I apologize for not speaking to you in person, but I have a strong feeling that you would not have been able to get past the fact that I was the one who created the potion. (And no, it does not have a name. It was not given one in order that it might be kept a secret, even among the Death Eaters.) When I say I would not have gotten past that point, I mean that is most likely where you were ready to ball up the parchment and incinerate it without a second thought.  
  
I am glad you didn't.  
  
Likely you feel betrayed. And you have a perfect right to feel such. I did betray your trust. I knowingly practiced the Dark Arts on one of your own. I did so without your knowledge and in violation of my promise to you. Nor did I tell you afterward, as I should have. Your trust in me is rightfully broken.  
  
I hope this letter contains everything you desire to know about this incident, for it contains everything I know.  
  
Sincerely, Severus Snape ~  
  
* * * * * * * *   
  
"So, what do we know about Snape's removal?" Harry asked while they were walking down to Potions.  
  
"Next to nothing," Hermione supplied. "Professor Dumbledore didn't tell us anything Professor McGonagall hadn't. The __Daily Prophet__ didn't say anything useful, only that Fudge is glad Snape was brought in and that the entire Ministry wants to blame him for the murder of Arabella Figg."  
  
"So, basically the only way Snape can get out of this is if the Ministry listens to Professor Dumbledore."  
  
"Looks that way."  
  
"Come on, guys, it can't be that bad. Snape was only brought in for questioning."  
  
"It probably isn't, Ron, but I'd feel better knowing what's happening."  
  
Harry began to tune out Ron and Hermione's conversation. He had learned what he wanted to know; now he had to wait. It wasn't a very comforting prospect. At least Evan and Irvan were still around. In fact, Irvan had become the long term substitute for Snape. He couldn't explain it, but he no longer was disgusted by the presence of a vampire. Though he wondered how the actions of the other students would change once they knew. He wasn't going to tell anyone, except maybe Ron and Hermione.  
  
Evan was still in the castle. And that was about all he knew. The spider seemed to be enjoying the freedom to wander at will. It had had one run in with Mrs. Norris that Harry knew about. The spider was still cursing cats in general.  
  
Idly he wondered how _Professor_ Irvan was at potions. And wondered how thoughts of Irvan and Evan seemed to merge. It never overly concerned him, but he thought it was odd. Irvan had been a good teacher while substituting for Professor Lupin, and Harry was laughing to himself whenever he heard the Slytherins comment on how wonderful he was. If they only knew. And now that Irvan was Head of Slytherin House, well, he wondered how surprised they would be.  
  
On entering the dungeon classroom, Harry found that both Irvan and the Slytherins were already there and his fellow Gryffindors were trickling in. They seemed a little hesitant with a new force in this familiar environment. Was it going to be better or worse than Snape?  
  
"Is everyone present?" Irvan asked in a voice no one could get tired of hearing. It was smoother than Snape, less threatening. But it always surprised Harry that Irvan spoke English. That voice wasn't meant for English, but the vampire had no discernible accent. When no one made any comments, he continued, "Very well. I'll first answer many of the unasked questions you no doubt have. First of all, I'll be following Professor Snape's lesson plans while he is absent. Unfortunately I do not know how long the Ministry intends to keep him, so there is no use in asking me. I will allow you to keep your current partners unless they cause problems.  
  
"I'm certain I do not need to remind you that I do have all the powers of a professor, unlike a substitute, and I strongly suggest that you remember it. Now, to begin the lesson. Turn to page 342. We will be covering a variation of the Shrinking Solution."  
  
Lab began quickly. As Irvan had explained, "This is a lesson in your ability to read directions, not in being guided through the process." It was quiet. For a change, the Slytherins, especially Malfoy, were doing nothing to provoke the Gryffindors, which both Harry and Ron found odd. In fact, it was such a smooth lab that many of the Gryffindors were beginning to experiment with the noise level in the room.  
  
"He's not that bad," Ron whispered. "Definitely better than Snape." Harry nodded, having nothing to add. He was still conditioned to remain silent lest he receive a detention.  
  
"Miss Granger," Irvan said sharply, catching several students off guard. "Return your attention to your own cauldron. Should Mr. Longbottom require assistance he will consult me first, then we will determine how best to help him. He is not learning anything except dependence by listening to you."  
  
Hermione flushed in anger at the insinuation, but did as she was told. Neville, however, looked stranded. Harry watched his fellow Gryffindor as it became apparent he was floundering. Hermione just wanted to help, but couldn't while Irvan was focusing most all of his attention on that table.  
  
"I almost want to take it back," Ron commented. "He is better than Snape, but not that much better."  
  
Harry didn't really agree. Irvan wasn't embarrassing Neville or Hermione too much. He was just making sure the lessons were learn the way he intended.  
  
Neville finally seem to swallow his fear, even though he shouldn't have any of Irvan. Rather he should, amended Harry, but not in Potions. The boy raised his hand and call, "Professor Irvan, could you come here for a moment. I think I need help." Smoothly Irvan glided to the table and peered into the battered cauldron. He began talking too softly for Harry to hear, but he appeared to be asking Neville questions. Satisfied that Neville wasn't going to crack under pressure, Harry returned to his work and waited for the end of the class.  
  
Once over, he sought Neville out, curious about what had happened after Irvan came to assist.  
  
"Well, he just asked me questions about what I did and what the book said to do. Nothing unusual, I guess. He's not half as scary as Professor Snape. But he's still scary. He sounds like he's from somewhere else, but I don't know where. My Gran says that people who don't have any accent are the ones you need to watch out for. But I like him."  
  
Harry was glad no one knew who Irvan really was. If they did, he bet the parents would pitch an awful fit.  
  
Lost in thought, he barely heard Ron talking to him during lunch. Hermione conveniently ignored the redhead by sticking her nose in a book. "Sorry, Ron. I wasn't paying attention."  
  
"Right, you weren't. I was asking how the Quidditch Team was doing."  
  
"Oh, just fine. We're working hard for our first match."  
  
"Ravenclaw can't be that much trouble."  
  
"It's not. We're just using that game as practice before the one with Slytherin."  
  
"That'll be a fun game. Especially if Snape's not here to see it."  
  
"It will be interesting. I'm betting that the Slytherins are going to be trying extra hard to win with Snape gone. You can tell they're not happy about it."  
  
"No kidding. But I'm just hoping that they stay that way. At least then we don't have to worry about stupid little pranks in Potions."  
  
"I doubt they'll try Irvan's patience too much. I have a feeling they like him better than any of the other teachers, but I don't know about how much they respect him."  
  
"Who cares? I like things the way they are." Ron slowed down to eat, inadvertently giving Hermione an opening into the conversation.  
  
"Harry, remember when you expressed an interest in learning more about portkeys?"  
  
"What about them?"  
  
"I picked this up from the library, and thought you might be interested in it."  
  
"You aren't supposed to take reference books from the library," Ron accused, mouth full of food.  
  
Hermione sent him a withering look and continued to talk to Harry. "It describes how portkeys are created, and the best ways to do so. And Ron, Madam Pince happens to like me, and trusts me enough to let me take it out of the library."  
  
"You don't mind if I take a look at it tonight?"  
  
"Not at all. I just need it back by the end of next week."  
  
"I'll get it back by then. Oh, that reminds me. Have you found anything out about Professor Hidelberg?"  
  
"No, not much. He was a good Potions Master, wrote several books, but from what I've seen they are for other Potions Masters, not students. I do believe that whoever wrote __Potions and Their Failures__ came from the Snape family. They have a long line of people who could have published under S.O.S. Professor Snape is not the only one, but he is the last in the direct line of heirs. I'm thinking he wrote it. His father was good friends with Professor Hidelberg. And there are no pictures from Snape's seventh year. The most recent in the book are of his sixth year. That gives him plenty of time to have written commentary on the sixth year failures and have the book published in time for his seventh year, with the help of his father."  
  
"Sounds like you thought this through," muttered Ron.  
  
"I have. And I think it's the most logical possibility. But I don't have any proof," she added glumly.  
  
"That's alright. We have a suspicion, even if it takes a confession to prove it. Anyway, who would have thought Snape would be capable of writing something useful, as well as fun to read."  
  
"Perhaps that's why he wrote under a pseudonym. He didn't want to ruin his reputation as a serious git," Ron commented gleefully, not at all perturbed that he liked something written by Snape.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
Dinner came far too early for his liking. Irvan hated the fact that he was required to attend. He hoped the Headmaster wouldn't do anything about Slytherin House though. The House-elves were more than agreeable about providing dinner in the Slytherin common room. He was still surprised that House-elves were not afraid of vampires, even though he had known this for over a thousand years. He didn't understand it, nor did he try. Why did he need to when everything worked just fine the way it was? But he was still curious. Perhaps that would become his next point of study after he solved the animagus dilemma.  
  
He walked into the Great Hall and immediately found Dumbledore beckoning him over. He sighed. It was too much to hope for to have the man just ignore the fact that one fourth of his students were absent. He might as well explain that they intended to be absent for as long as Severus was gone. It wasn't too unreasonable.  
  
Irvan glanced down at the tables. Slytherin's wasn't even set. Not a single dish or utensil. But the Head Boy, Marcus Brentwood, was sitting at the far end, back toward the rest of the houses.  
  
"Good evening, Irvan," Dumbledore greeted. Irvan nodded in recognition. He wasn't in the mood to socialize. It had been a frustrating day and he was hungry. And nothing on the table was going to satisfy him. Unfortunately, he was going to have to wait until later that night. Maybe he could slip into London, or the nearest Muggle city, for a real meal. It wouldn't be too much trouble, not to mention it would last much longer than any creature he would find in the Forbidden Forest. Centaurs excluded, but he had no desire to battle one of those.  
  
"How was your first day teaching potions?" Dumbledore continued unfazed.  
  
"Quite well. Most of the students still retained their fear of Severus. It was most amusing. Suffice to say, the first years were more willing to test the waters, so to speak. I'll have the remaining years tomorrow. I believe the seventh years are going to be more of a trial."  
  
"You seem to be including the Weasley twins in your prediction."  
  
"I have already met them."  
  
"It's good you know what to expect. Though it appears you haven't managed to convince the Slytherins to join us."  
  
Irvan was expecting that change in topic. Expecting it, but not really wanting to answer it. "They are convinced of their beliefs. They will not return until Severus has."  
  
"Why, then, is Mr. Brentwood here?" Irvan caught the knowing twinkle in the Headmaster's eyes. He already knew the answer. And that irked Irvan. Why would anyone ask something they already knew?  
  
"I believe he is here to make an appearance. I understand that it is expected of the Head Boy."  
  
"Indeed it is."  
  
Irvan felt a brief satisfaction, as just after Dumbledore spoke Brentwood stood and left. Exactly ten minutes since the beginning. Exactly the same time Severus had spent in the Great Hall before the Aurors arrived. He carefully hid his victorious smile, knowing that it was not his victory, as surprise crossed Dumbledore's face. Many other teachers and students expressed surprise, but it was the calm and collected Headmaster he was glad to shock.  
  
"If you will excuse me, Headmaster, I will go find something more suited to my tastes." Irvan rose, not allowing Dumbledore to demand otherwise, and left through the teacher's entrance.  
  
He was grateful to leave. The smells of the foods were starting to nauseate him. Most particularly the garlic flavoring the dishes supported in full blast. While it was not a foolproof method of keeping vampires at bay, it certainly was a deterrent. He had once made the mistake of allowing an acquaintance take him to Gilroy, California to meet a friend. He had been in a sullen mood the entire trip, and no doubt had given the acquaintance exactly what she wanted just to get out of that God-forsaken place.  
  
He was definitely ready to visit some Muggles this evening. Maybe he could even forget about the discontented little ball of emotions that was Severus. He doubted it, but he could try. Irvan had not spoken a word to Severus since the wizard had forbidden him to attempt anything that involved him, Azkaban, and Aurors. Basically, rescue was out of the question.  
  
Figuring he would have the best luck in London, Irvan sped for that metropolis with all his vampiric haste.  
  
* * * * * * *   
  
The dog had finally reached the edge of the forest, even with the vague sense of disorientation. He didn't really know why he was here, but he knew this was a safe place and he needed to be here. The majestic castle loomed overhead in the distance, like a beacon showing the way home. He had always loved that castle. Now he was back home.  
  
A small part of the dog remembered the history he had with the place, but the majority was overwhelmingly happy at the prospect of seeing two specific people again. His Godson and Moony.  
  
"You?!" an incredulous voice demanded. "What are YOU doing here?" Padfoot turned around searching for the voice. Funny, he couldn't smell anything. Every sense told him he was alone. Except there was a voice. Dogs' eyes were sensitive in the dark, but he could discern nothing out of the ordinary. At least not until one of the shadows deliberately stepped toward him.  
  
Padfoot growled in warning, ready to rip out the intruder's throat.  
  
"Never mind, I'm sure it doesn't matter," the shadow said. He recognized it was a vampire now. Right before he went to kill the creature, he remembered there was a vampire here that was suppose to be protecting his Godson. "Whatever the reason, I am certain Dumbledore will want to see you before anyone else knows you are here."  
  
Padfoot transformed into the man known as Sirius Black. "What do you mean before anyone else does?"  
  
"Exactly what I said."  
  
"What are you doing here?"  
  
The vampire cast an aura of being annoyed. "Trying to convince myself that you are not on the menu for tonight." Sirius didn't think the vampire was being very sarcastic.  
  
"Fine, I'll go see Dumbledore." He made as if to transform again, but the Dark Creature stopped him.  
  
"It would be easier to cast an invisibility and silencing charm if you remain human. My brand of magic doesn't form well around animals." Sirius looked at Irvan blankly for a moment, then curiously. What motive would the thing have to keep him from being discovered? The vampire must have read much in that glance, for it answered, "I'm not doing this out of the goodness of my heart, and definitely not for your sake. But Harry doesn't deserve to have the only thing resembling a relative taken from him." Now Sirius gaped openly. Since when did vampires have anything resembling feelings? "If you're quite through, we can get going."  
  
"Did you cast the spells, yet?" he asked doubtfully, too tired to manage much else.  
  
"Of course, but it will be useless if you intend to keep talking."  
  
He was too tired for irritation to filter in, and unexpectedly thankful for the vampire's arrival. Now if he could just remember why he had decided to come here...  
  
_____________________________________________________  
  
And of course, I would like to thank my beta The Goddess Artemis. 


	20. Chapter 20

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Chapter 20  
  
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This wasn't one of his better nights. He was again staring at the long letter Severus had written sometime before he had been apprehended by the Aurors. There were parts of the letter where the paragraphs jumped from one topic to another, completely inconsistent with the previous topic. Then, just as suddenly, he returned to a previously mentioned phrase or concept and wrote as if there had been no break. It was quite different from Severus's usual methodical approach, but the choice of words, the subject matter, and overall concise and precise mannerisms were undoubtedly his.  
  
Dumbledore had even cast a multitude of identification charms to be sure, though he hadn't needed to. Olin would never have delivered an important missive by anything other than Snape's request.  
  
He was, of course, concerned about the knowledge Severus had not disclosed after the first fall of Voldemort, but that was not what worried him. He trusted Severus enough to know the man would never use that knowledge unless he was coerced. No, he was worried that the Ministry would catch wind of this and never release Snape. That was something he could not have happen.  
  
The slight tap on his door ended his silent contemplation for the moment. The door opened of its own accord, and from the stairwell entrance stepped the undesired, resident vampire.  
  
"May I help you, Irvan?" Dumbledore asked from his desk. It was unusual for the vampire to enter without company, namely Severus. Though in the rare times he did, it had always involved a long absence of Severus's and a vision of Harry's.  
  
"I believe I have someone you would like to speak to," Irvan answered slowly. Just that instant, Sirius Black appeared beside him. It should have startled the great wizard more than it showed, but he had become surprisingly used to the unexpected.  
  
"Ah, Sirius. It is good to see you again," Dumbledore greeted, sounding for all the world as if he was greeting a long lost friend. He tried not to betray his anxiety, knowing it would lead to questions he wasn't ready to answer. "Please have a seat. Would you like any tea?" Before Sirius could answer he conjured two steaming cups, setting one in front of the animagus. "Irvan, could you wait outside for a moment? I need to talk with you as well." Receiving the puzzled and cold glare from the vampire, Dumbledore returned his attention to Sirius Black. "Tell me, how has your progress been?"  
  
Sirius stared at his cup for a minute or two, trying to collect his thoughts. Dumbledore did not press him. "Most of them are dead. But the strange thing is, Professor, is that they all died within weeks of each other, too close for it to be a coincidence. I'm tempted to say there is a spy amidst the Death Eaters." There was a pregnant pause filled with insinuations. "I know you said Snape doesn't know any of the names, but who else is there?"  
  
Dumbledore sighed. "I don't know, Sirius. The Ministry thinks they'll find out from Severus. I've already convinced them Remus isn't the spy, and was working on Severus' case when the Ministry took him."  
  
"You mean Snape's gone!" Sirius gasped.  
  
"Unfortunately, he is for the moment. I'm still trying to get him cleared of this matter. Now, can you tell me who is still alive?" It was awful to ask that question. He would have preferred the lesser number to be the deaths, not the living.  
  
"Masic, last I saw. He was supposed to be sending you a letter two days into the school year."  
  
"I never received one. I will have to send someone to find out what happened."  
  
"Gounfed is the only other one I found alive."  
  
"I have heard from him. He's in Hogsmeade right now. These are not good numbers; two out of the six I sent you to find. I only hope the others have more success. You should be getting some rest. It's late, or early depending on how you look at it. You can use the internal Floo Network to reach Remus' rooms. I trust you will be comfortable there until other arrangements can be made."  
  
Black look almost like a new man at the mention of his old friend. "Of course, Professor." He rose and walked over to the Headmaster's fireplace. "Where's the Floo powder?"  
  
"In the blue china dish on the right."  
  
Sirius nodded, took a pinch and disappeared though the green flames.  
  
The door opened just as soon as the flames died down, returning to the small but merry fire that had been burning before. "Irvan, I've been meaning to ask you about this," he said, brandishing the letter. Curiosity piqued, Irvan took the papers and began rifling through them. "Have you seen this before?"  
  
The vampire placed the parchment on the desk quickly. "Seen it, no. Though I am far too familiar with its contents."  
  
"Do you know anything about the curse and the potion used on Sirius?"  
  
"I do not know much about the potion Severus created; however, I know of the original. It was created circa 960 A.D. in order to bind those one desired to follow one's will. As I recall, it wasn't as successful as its maker would have liked, leaving a considerable gap between the order and actual action. A century or two later, another Potions master played with the idea of using it to control an army of followers who would not have taken any part in his schemes otherwise. I believe he was the one who perfected it to what it was before Severus started working with it.  
  
"It was not until the late 1500s that the Imperius curse was created, along with the Impero Pareo Quamtotius. The dark wizard who created that accidentally discovered a way to link the potion and curse, but his studies were merely the foundation for what is controlling Sirius. From what I understand of that combination, and what little I know of Severus' remarkable improvements, Sirius knows only what he knew before the curse. He will act no differently, and will deny ever being cursed. When the curse it activated, he will do as commanded but remember nothing of it once it is temporarily canceled."  
  
"You mean he could be subjected to that curse a multitude of times."  
  
"Yes. And he will do anything without the slightest ability to retaliate. If commanded to, he would murder, rape, or commit other atrocities without a second thought. If Severus is correct, he will be used to try to capture his own godson and bring him to Voldemort."  
  
Dumbledore leaned back and closed his eyes. Things were more difficult than he had anticipated. "Is it safe to keep him here?" He couldn't allow Sirius to remain in Hogwarts if at any moment he could become the puppet of Voldemort.  
  
"So long as there is no one here that would cast the curse. It is a very difficult one to cast, so I doubt that any of the children have the strength. Hogwarts is most likely the safest place for him."  
  
"Can you tell me when Severus created this . . . potion?"  
  
"I don't know when. It was already created and tested when I met Severus. Though I understand it was not long after he first affiliated himself with Voldemort."  
  
"As much as I hate to say this about the Dark Arts, Severus did a marvelous job with his masterpiece."  
  
"I don't think it is his masterpiece."  
  
"There are other potions?"  
  
"Many others. I'm afraid he will never tell you freely, though perhaps if you asked directly. I don't even know why I'm telling you this. It's not doing him any favors."  
  
"Quite right. Though I am curious as to how you know so much about these creations."  
  
"I was there for most of it. I met many of the wizards in passing. I have always made it a point to meet great minds if I am able, though after Grendelwald I've slowed down. And After Voldemort I stopped completely. Likely if I had not gotten caught up with Grendelwald, you and I would have meet under starkly different circumstances."  
  
"I would not be surprised."  
  
The conversation lulled until Irvan brought up his desired point. "What are you doing to free Severus?"  
  
"What I can. Going through the legal branches. Making entreaties to certain officials. Calling in favors where I am able. Everything legally available."  
  
"What about illegally?" the vampire muttered, obviously not satisfied.  
  
"I can't allow you to make a jail break. One, it would make Severus look suspicious. And two, it would cause no end of trouble in your promise to help Harry."  
  
"Yes, but it is far more difficult to sit here and do nothing when Severus is stuck in that Godforsaken place, waiting for the Aurors and Dementors to suck the life from him, a fate far worse than death."  
  
"I understand, Irvan, and I'm doing everything possible. And we already have the media's ear. Once the hysteria has died down a bit, the children's pleas will garner attention. And while it is a known fact that Slytherins will only get half an ear, the mere mention of Harry might be able to sway the public."  
  
"Excellent," Irvan said sullenly. "Just what the Slytherins always wanted. The valiant Boy-Who-Lived coming to the rescue. No offense, Professor, Harry is a good kid and means well, but this is something the Slytherins wish to do alone."  
  
"I quite understand. But I am not going to stop Harry from doing anything. Though I was a bit surprised to find Harry and his friends at dinner tonight."  
  
"That is possibly because he was not aware the Slytherins intend to continue this protest. Though I believe the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs will stay out before Harry."  
  
"Very probable. But I must ask, what have you told the Slytherins to get them to behave?"  
  
"Behave? I was unaware they did anything but. If you detect a difference in their behavior, it is none of my doing."  
  
"Hmm. That is something to look into. One more thing before you go, Irvan. Is it possible for you to counteract the potion or curse currently on Sirius?"  
  
"The potion, not without knowing exactly what the variations he was given were. They change according to the person's reaction. And to my knowledge there never was a counter curse. Though it may be possible to create one. Canceling the curse must be done only by the caster."  
  
"Thank you, Irvan. When I get any information regarding Severus I will not hesitate in contacting you." Irvan nodded and left. Dumbledore had a feeling the vampire was in poor spirits after this meeting.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
"Can you believe how quiet it was at dinner? I never thought the Slytherins accounted for so much of the noise."  
  
"It wasn't just that they were gone, Ron." Hermione corrected. "Everyone was still subdued because of Snape's absence. Do you think they're still protesting?"  
  
"You can bet on it," Harry stated. "They aren't likely to forget what happened and just pass it over happily."  
  
"Are you going to join them, Harry?"  
  
"I don't know. I mean, I don't like what happened, but I don't like Snape either. I just don't know."  
  
"You know we'll support your decision. I don't like Snape any more than you do, but I have to agree with the Slytherins. Everything that has happened is wrong."  
  
"I don't know what's so wrong about it. That's just how things are done," Ron piped in.  
  
Hermione glared. "It might be how things are done, but it doesn't mean it's right."  
  
"I'm going to bed. See you in the morning, Hermione."  
  
"You don't want to play any chess?" Ron interrupted.  
  
"No. I'm tired. Night, Ron."  
  
Harry walked up the stairs to his dorm. Very few were actually asleep. Harry wasn't really ready to turn in, but he needed time to think. * Evan, you there? *  
  
* Of course I am. It's not like I go anywhere. *  
  
* It's just that I haven't seen you in a while, and I don't know where you are. *  
  
* I'm wandering. This is a big castle. *  
  
* I know. I just don't want you to get lost or anything. *  
  
* That is unlikely. That incident with Mrs. Norris was unexpected, but now I know how to keep track of her. She's about as annoying as that white ball of fur. *  
  
* Do you know why the Slytherins aren't coming to dinner? *  
  
There was a pause. * Probably because no one would listen to them any other way. That's usually why people protest. *  
  
* I know that. But is it because Snape's gone or because of the way he was taken? *  
  
* Both. You may think Slytherins know nothing of loyalty because they are stereotyped as dark wizards, but even dark wizards know something about loyalty. Especially when it pertains to their own. Slytherins are in a unique position to understand loyalty from all sides: loyalty to each other, and to their superiors. Their loyalty to their own is far stronger than that of the Hufflepuffs'. *  
  
* Why is that? *  
  
* Because no one else will return that loyalty. As it is, they could care less if Snape is a Death Eater or a spy so long as he is returned. Unharmed. *  
  
* So, they just like Professor Snape. *  
  
* Quite so. *  
  
* But why are they not playing any jokes or any of the other things they used to? *  
  
* They want to prove they don't need to? I honestly don't know. Ask them. *  
  
* What? *  
  
* Ask them. Find out why they've changed. It can't hurt anything. *  
  
* Only my reputation. *  
  
* Oh, you ruined that when you walked out for Snape. *  
  
* Huh? My reputation is not ruined. *  
  
* No, but it is drastically changed. Don't tell me you haven't noticed. *  
  
* Well, uh . . . *  
  
* The other students seem to follow you when it comes to opinions. *  
  
* But that's just stupid. *  
  
* Yes it is, but not incorrect. Many of them are rethinking their opinions of that night. Granted, there are going to be many who don't change what they think, but there will be plenty who do. *  
  
* Just because I walked out. *  
  
* Because everyone knows you hate that man, and you still walked out. I have a strong feeling Dumbledore is still trying to figure that one out. Well, he's also trying to figure out what's wrong with the Slytherins, but that's completely different. He'll never really understand. *  
  
* Do you know what's happening to Snape? *  
  
* Without a doubt he is being questioned. And Aurors are never to gentle when it comes to those they suspect. *  
  
* You aren't going to tell me, are you? * Harry accused.  
  
* No, I am not. It might not be worse than what you see Voldemort do, but then again it could be worse because you know the Aurors are on your side. *  
  
* You mean the Aurors are just as bad as Voldemort? *  
  
* I've seen it done. *  
  
* Oh. Do you really think I'll get an answer? * he asked, returning to a previous topic. He just couldn't see himself asking Malfoy why he was protesting.  
  
* You never know unless you try. Perhaps it's time to improve inter-house relations. *  
  
* You talk as if you know all these things already. *  
  
* My social life with my own is not that much different. * Evan sounded offended.  
  
* Sorry, I was just observing. Anyway, are you going to come back any time soon? *  
  
* I'll drop by when I'm near the Tower, but a can't promise anything. *  
  
* I was just going to ask your help to pull a prank. *  
  
* On who? *  
  
* We haven't decided. *  
  
* When you do, let me know. It might prove interesting. *  
  
* Alright. Thanks for talking. *  
  
* It's not like I'm going anywhere. *  
  
* See you around, Evan. *  
  
* Goodnight. *  
  
Harry turned over in bed with many more things to think about. But at least he had settled the questions on the Slytherins, at least for the moment. Perhaps Evan was right and he should talk to Malfoy. It seemed unlikely that anyone younger would understand what he wanted to know, and he knew none of the upper years. Time to bite the bullet, as the Muggle saying went.  
  
* * * * * * * *   
  
No dark and dreary dungeon cell for him, no sir. A nice bright and white room meant for the convenience of the Aurors. When there weren't Aurors, there were Dementors. He wasn't even sure how long he had been there. It was amazing how fast time perception left you when you were stuck in the same bright conditions for long periods of time without sleep.  
  
The Aurors didn't even come on a regular schedule. Stay for hours on end, leave and come right back. Or leave him with only Dementors for company. Funny, with all of his nightmares vying for the top of the list, his mind was remarkably clear. Ordinarily he would count it off as his lack of current thoughts. But now, he thought it might be a result of actually having too many nightmares.  
  
Something told him the doors were open. But he couldn't see. The chair he was strapped to was facing away from them. It was probably an Auror or maybe several. They seemed to like to gang up on him.  
  
"Well, if it isn't Professor Snape." The voice was far from friendly, but nowhere near unfriendly either. Severus tried to suppress a shiver. He had tried his entire life to avoid that man. Wasn't he supposed to be retired? "Never thought I'd see you in here again. Dumbledore has kept you rather well."  
  
"Moody. A pleasure as always, I see," he remarked coldly as the disfigured wizard stepped into view.  
  
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And here's the "Thank you" for my beta The Goddess Artemis. 


	21. Chapter 21

I apologize for updating so late. I was on vacation and then reading The Order of the Phoenix. I was quite overjoyed to find there were new spells and situations that will fit excellently with my own plot. If any of you have not read the fifth book, don't worry too much, I will mark the chapters that involve spoilers.   
  
This chapter has some slight references to Black's family as described in the fifth book. I did take liberty to play with Black's mother's personality based on the brief conversations held about her.  
  
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Chapter 21  
  
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Lucius stared dispassionately as the Aurors did their work. He wasn't a stranger to their methods, nor did he disprove of them. He was after all a practitioner. The vaguely bored expression was the only thing keeping Snape from reading his true thoughts. That and the continuous attention Moody demanded from him. If Snape had any reaction to Malfoy's presence, he was currently in too much pain to show it, if notice it at all.  
  
He had enter after the questioning had begun. The Governors demanded that at least one of them was present for the initial questioning. This was the first time Lucius had volunteered. None of the others had stayed beyond the first round of the question/answer time. All had left before things really developed. The only reason he was currently here was to listen for any information that could be used against Severus Snape and presented to the Dark Lord as evidence.  
  
Unfortunately, Snape was a tight-mouthed man who appeared to know nothing. Or perhaps the Aurors were just asking the wrong questions, the wizard was under Veritaserum. Given half a chance, Lucius could uncover secrets the Aurors never dreamed of, but doing that would lend suspicion on himself for knowing what to ask.  
  
All he needed, however, was anything that directly tied him to working against Lord Voldemort. All the Aurors wanted was to hear how he was working for the Dark Lord. Two separate goals and only one way to achieve either. If Lucius had his way, he would leave Snape in Azkaban to rot until the Lord choose to capture the fortress. It was an easy way to be rid of him. And the Dark Lord saw differently. Apparently he had other plans for Snape. Ones Lucius did not know about, and wondered if Snape even suspected.  
  
No, Lucius was not just here of his own agenda. He was here appealing Severus's case. Eventually Fudge would back down and listen to Malfoy. Eventually. That definitely did not mean any time soon. Not when the fool thought he had the traitor in his grasp. Traitor as Severus was, he was not the one Fudge needed to be looking for. Lucius knew that, but not who was the actual spy. Which meant Severus knew nothing.   
  
So after the short round of simple questions, the force came into play. Veritaserum or not, a Potions Master must know a way around it. It almost made Lucius cringe when he watched what could easily be himself in that chair if suspicion ever fell the wrong way too strongly. Even he knew money could only buy off so many people.  
  
He tried to turn his attention back to the interrogation.  
  
"Who's in a position to inform Voldemort?"  
  
"Anyone." Snape's answer was immediate and hoarse. So far no one had resorted to anything Unforgivable, but that did not mean there weren't plenty of substitutes.  
  
"Does Voldemort have spies in the Ministry?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
Lucius smiled slightly. Of course Snape wouldn't know. Lucius had been keeping the knowledge far from Snape's grasp, making sure the Dark Lord always suspected the Potions Master of spouting off more information to Dumbledore than allowed. It wouldn't do for their 'double-agent' to know more than what was desired.  
  
Malfoy began to tune out most of the questions and answers, listening mainly to the tortured sounds of a man having to believe his own lies crafted on the spot to satisfy the Aurors need for secrets.  
  
A sickening crunch broke Malfoy's thoughts. He glanced up casually and found Severus whimpering, head bowed over his chest. One of the punches must have landed harder than expected. That or Severus was much weaker than he let on. Which wasn't really surprising, the wizard had be subjected to this for a couple of weeks now.  
  
"We won't get anymore out of him tonight," Moody growled. "Call in a medi-wizard. We'll reconvene once he's fit enough to talk." The Aurors began to file past Lucius, Mad-Eye Moody closing the rear. "Coming?"  
  
The disgust and mistrust in the voice was almost palatable. "Give me a moment," he stated, knowing full well he would be granted what he asked. It was one of the things Governors were permitted. Moody glared but left, locking the cell behind. If Lucius wasn't careful, he might find himself sharing the room in a chair along side his one time comrade.  
  
He purposely moved directly in front of the captive. Placing a finger beneath the prisoner's chin, he lifted it until he could see into the man's eyes. Black eyes glazed over in pain and the distance created by Veritaserum. "Well now, it appears as though you are ignorant. Which you probably are. While this is where you should spend the rest of your days, there are more forces working to free you than Dumbledore. Forces that will have more success. Though you probably knew that. If left to Dumbledore you would be rotting in here until the Dementors are given your soul. I'll return for you when I am able."  
  
The eyes returned a dull haze, very little understanding filtered through. But just enough did for him to know the repercussions of the statement.  
  
"One last thing, does Dumbledore know about you last little project?"  
  
"I don't know," the words intoned, slurred slightly as an affect of the serum.  
  
"Did you ever plan on telling him?"  
  
"No."  
  
"But you did leave something behind in case he goes looking, correct?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"How unfortunate for you." Lucius left it at that. If Severus left something explaining what he had done, then Malfoy had something with which to prove Snape's disloyalty. He just needed to get his hands on it.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
It was coming on two weeks since his discussion with Evan and the spider was starting to question his resolve. A very uncomfortable situation, having a nonhuman all but berating you. It had all but stated that Harry was waiting for Snape to return just to avoid talking to the Slytherins. Just to prove it wrong, Harry was doing the last thing any sane Gryffindor wanted, search for Malfoy. Well the last thing preceded only by voluntarily searching for Snape.  
  
Why was it whoever you were looking for seemed to disappear when wanted them and show up when you didn't? Malfoy was the same in that aspect. He had spent the entire day looking for Malfoy and never saw him once. He saw Crabbe and Goyle, but no Malfoy. He had even asked Evan if he knew where to find that particular Slytherin. With no luck.  
  
He was becoming dismayed as the day wore on. The only thing he was thankful for was that Ron and Hermione were not worrying about where he was. Hermione would understand why he was doing this, but Ron. Ron didn't seem to understand anything about this protest.  
  
Harry only knew his decision, but he wanted to know the others'. He wanted to know if he was right.  
  
He was on his way to Gryffindor Tower when he saw a platinum blonde Slytherin slip into the library.  
  
* * * * * * * *   
  
Draco was sick and tired of dealing with Vincent and Gregory at the moment. They were fine when he needed the extra muscle for intimidation. But when it came to studying, those two were about as helpful as a lump on a log. He did much better studying alone, at least then he didn't have to worry about steeping in stupidity.  
  
"Hey, Malfoy, you got a minute?"  
  
He looked up to see who was idiotic enough to call him. No one in Slytherin would have the nerve. "Well, if it isn't the Great Harry Potter. I suppose I am just suppose to drop whatever I am doing to accommodate you. Is that it?" He would have rather hexed the Boy-Who-Lived, but that would have gotten him kicked out of the library and he preferred to study here.  
  
"Whatever works," Potter mumbles as he sat across from him. "Look, I wanted to talk to you about your protest."  
  
"Is the concept so far above your head?" he sneered, enjoying the sight of Potter seethe in anger. "We are mad that the Aurors came and took our Professor without any legitimate reason."  
  
"Oh, I had thought there might be something more," Potter said more to himself than to Draco. Something more? Perhaps he meant the protest the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were holding against the way Professor Snape was taken. He was certain most of those could care less about the man. But why had Potter walked out? As much as he hated the Boy Wonder, he was curious. Professor Snape never missed a chance to insult Potter, so why was it that Potter seemed to support Snape?  
  
"Perhaps because there is," he said. He could easily explain this conversation away as collecting the necessary information should any catch him talking to the enemy. The less he said and the more he got the better.  
  
"What do you mean?" Merlin, was Potter really this dense? Probably so, if his current love life was anything to measure by. The fool could even understand who to talk to a girl without making her upset. The Mud-blood he hangs out with not included.  
  
"You didn't see the other houses walking out because they liked Professor Snape. And I know for a fact you don't." There. That was an adequate way of informing Potter he knew the Gryffindor left in protest as well. Something the whole of Slytherin was trying to figure out. Well, point to him if he discovered why.  
  
"Well, the Ministry shouldn't be able to do that," Potter mumbled. Did the idiot even realize who he was talking to? Likely not.  
  
But at least Draco knew why Potter left. He was embarrassed for the Ministry. 'Should not be able to do that.' Ha. Surely he knew that the Ministry does as it damn well pleases when it comes to Death Eaters. You have only to look at the Sirius Black case for confirmation. And from what his father had told him, Black was as innocent of that crime as he was of plotting to kill the Minister and they all knew his father much preferred Fudge as a puppet Minister anyway. His mother had told him of the rage Black's mother raised when she found out her estranged son was being imprisoned for something he would never do.  
  
He had always found that amusing. Mrs. Black ranting and raging that her son was innocent, not because she felt any loyalty to her family, but because she refused to let her blood to be condemned for something she was proud of. Now if it had been Regulus, the witch would he beating down the down with praise. But the Ministry took her rants to mean the Sirius Black as guilty as charged. That was irony.  
  
"I had thought Weasel would have explained it to you," Draco sneered. It wasn't as good as his father's and nowhere near as good as Professor Snape's, but he was working on it. "That is how it is done."  
  
"Is there some sort of rule book that says all this? That is exactly what Ron said." Draco glanced up, certain Potter no longer knew who he was talking to. As expected, Harry Potter was staring off into space, clueless as to his surroundings. At least that is what he though until green eyes meet his. "I've been wondering about the Slytherin change in attitude."  
  
"What change in attitude?" Draco wasn't interested in perusing that topic so he pack his books and left. He had Quidditch practice soon anyway and needed to change. He never saw the puzzled expression Potter pulled behind his back. He didn't need to. There was a slight change in the Slytherin attitude towards their classmates. And it was solely Brentwood's suggestion. And he had met quite a bit of arguing to get his housemates to agree to it.  
  
Basically, Slytherins were to do nothing that would cost them points while Snape was gone. That included no smart remarks, even toward Irvan who they were certain wouldn't mind. They were to tolerate the other house, most especially those who participated in the impromptu protest. That included Harry Potter. Most of the House would have rather not listen to Brentwood because of this, but the reasoning the Head Boy laid out was indisputable. Any violent reaction would only cause the Ministry to think Snape was influencing them negatively. Since they were already labeled junior Death Eaters, there was a need to prove that that was not necessarily true. And violent protests were sure signs of them being followers of the Dark Lord.  
  
They all agreed in unison, even if very few of them actually liked it. It was a mark of a Slytherin to do as was needed, not what was desired.  
  
Draco didn't like it. Not taking the opportunity to hex Potter rankled his nerves. Thankfully he heard from his father that he was working to release Snape. Draco knew the Minister was in his father's pockets and nothing Dumbledore could do would change that.  
  
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AN: I'll try to get back to my usual schedule now that I am returned from vacation. Again I apologize for being late. 


	22. Chapter 22

This chapter contains very mild spoilers for Order of the Phoenix. _______________________________________________  
  
Chapter 22  
  
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It was a testament of Dumbledore's desperation that kept him hidden away. He had seen no one other than Remus and a random visit from his godson. Of course he understood Harry had other obligations to the school and needed to keep normal appearances, but he could not help but feel depressed.  
  
It had been over two months since his return to Hogwarts and no one was telling him anything. He only found out about the Ministry observation of Remus the day it occurred. And he had to ask why Percy Weasley was there. Of course there were no unforeseen complications to that visit. He was required to stay out of sight for the entire day, but Remus filled him in with the details that night.  
  
The next thing he had to ask about was the Wolfsbane potion when the full moon came around and there was no Snape. Sirius wouldn't have minded too much about Snape's absence, except for the little problem of Wolfsbane. And when he learned that the vampire was making it, he nearly howled in frustration. Remus assured him that the vampire would do nothing to poison the potion and that if he, a werewolf, could trust the vampire then Sirius should as well. If only as far as creating a useable potion.  
  
It was after breakfast right now and all of the students and teachers were in class, leaving the halls empty enough for him to sneak around and get some exercise. Today he was interested in walking out to the front gates for some reason. It was a long walk and no one used that entrance during the normal school day. And most of the visitors would arrive in some sort of carriage and go right up to the front doors. He could easily hide from the noisy coaches.  
  
He had reached the iron-wrought gates twisted to form the Hogwarts's four animal crest when he hear the unique sound of a port key. Ducking quickly under the shrubbery, he peeked out to view who had arrived. It had to be one of the Ministry; they controlled the creations of port keys rigorously, or at least they wanted to.  
  
The sight was surprising. Two blue coated Aurors stood supporting a ragged man between. It didn't take three guesses as to who they were bringing back. Severus Snape. The man look worse than Sirius had once escaping from Azkaban. Sirius was only dirty and weak from hunger. Not battered and bruised. Served the git right for causing problems.  
  
"All right. Leave him here," said the taller of the two.  
  
"Leave him? Are you sure he can make it to the castle?"  
  
"Who cares. We were told to take him to Hogwarts, and this is Hogwarts. Come on, we have other business to attend to." Releasing their hold, they stepped back and Apperated. Snape seemed able to stand on his own while the Aurors Disapperated, and Sirius thought the other wizard could make it to the gates, even with the shuffled stagger of an invalid. He was ready to turn away and head back to the castle thinking nothing was amiss, when Snape's last staggered step sent him falling face first.  
  
Under normal circumstances he would have found this amusing. However at the moment he understood, briefly, what it is like to finally be free of Azkaban and Dementors. He hadn't had the luxury of enjoying that experience, not like it appeared Snape was doing. But Snape hadn't moved in several long moments. There came the dilemma. Leave and forget he ever saw this and let Snape deal with getting back in by himself, which was by far the most favorable. Leave and notify Dumbledore or Lupin, while that entailed him to actually participate in helping the greasy bastard it was far more favorable than the last. God forbid that he actually stay and help the git.  
  
He was again about to leave when he heard what sounded like mutterings. Was Snape talking to himself? He was more unhinged than ever. Creeping closer, the need to satisfy his desire to watch Snape in his insanity.  
  
"Good one, Severus. Imagine what they'll when find out about this. Can't even crawl three feet. I'm going to kill him when I get out of this. I don't care what his excuse is I'm going to kill him. Now all you have to is reach the gate. Remember last time. Touch the gate. Remember?"  
  
Last time? Had Snape been kicked out of Azkaban before? Or was he just referring to another unrelated time when he was dropped injured before the gates of Hogwarts.  
  
"It isn't even three feet if you have crawl. It's not like you haven't done this before. No, I refuse to do that. I've done this before without help. I'm going to kill him." The mutterings ceased to have intelligible meaning after that, no matter how close he was. Soon Snape had somehow pulled himself to his knees and was resting on all fours. Sirius had seen this before. A long time ago when they were attending Hogwarts as students. It was usually how Snape began his retaliations. Pause vulnerable then lash out. Not that James ever allowed him to get that far.  
  
Still the mutterings had not stopped. Sirius thought that odd. A gasp of pain interrupted the wordless monotone as Snape firmly planted his foot on the earth. The mumbled sounds turned to stronger chanting now that Snape stood more upright. Slowly but steadily he made his way to standing.  
  
But it was the face that surprised Sirius. The battered wizard, looking to frail to stand, appeared to be in a state of calm by looking at his visage. Eyes closed, facial muscles lax. The only movement was the slight change in his lips as he chanted a charm. It was steady, no variation as slowly he placed one foot in front of the other and brought himself closer to the gates.  
  
It was then he caught a whiff of the sounds and recognized it for what it was. Dark Magic. Snape was chanting a Black Charm in order to reach the gates. It was impossible for Snape to be that badly off to need assistance from a spell, any type of spell, not isolated to the Dark Arts. He could be that badly injured if he could chant a spell. But there was a nagging feeling that he shouldn't be surprised. A feeling Sirius couldn't shake, nor could he ignore. But this little bit of wandless magic just didn't surprise him like it should.  
  
Stopping just shy of the iron, Snape ceased chanting, knowing full well that Hogwarts dislikes any sort of Dark Magic. And Snape probably reeked of it. He seemed hesitate as he reached out to steady himself on the gates. He gripped the emblem of the Slytherin House tightly as if it was going to repel him. "Open, already," he said to the gates, which didn't move. Sighing he resolved to wait, loosing what little strength the gained from the spell.  
  
Time wore on and Sirius knew the classes were changing and therefore couldn't return to the castle at the moment without risking a sighting. That meant he was stuck here for another half an hour, to be safe. And watching Snape wasn't much fun unless he was rising to the bait.  
  
"You're not doing much good on that side of the gate," he heard Snape say, thinking for a moment the git was addressing him. Looking up, Sirius saw otherwise. Snape's gaze was vacant and turned in the direction of something directly in front of him. Sirius thought he saw a moment of distortion of the wrought iron seal, blinked and saw nothing different. Next he saw Snape appearing to mount a horse. "Entrance to the dungeons by way of the lake." Suddenly Snape was airborne and the next he was invisible.  
  
Odd. Had Snape used more Dark Magic to get past the gates? But he was certain the gates would never have allowed any of the Dark Arts to bypass it. It was something else he was not familiar with. Perhaps he should go inform Dumbledore. At the very least he could get the git in trouble. That would prove to be interesting.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
The thestral landed him close to his point of entry. He could use the Dark Chant to gain strength now that he was on Hogwarts's grounds. That would have had devastating consequences. Nor did he have his wand. Had he, he could have cast some heal charms. While that was not his forte, he knew enough to enable him a reliable way down to his dungeons were he would find potions to cure most of his aliments. And mask those he couldn't cure. No, he was going to have to use the last of the strength he called on from that Dark Chant to reach his rooms, but he was not sure he had enough to reach his rooms.  
  
Still he had to try. Even though Dumbledore was likely alerted to his presence by now, it was unlikely the old fool would go searching for him. And he did not want to meet another staff member in this condition. They would take him to the infirmary for that blasted medi-witch to take care of. He had better things to do with his time than spend it under her strict supervision. He had had enough of that while in school, though even then he tried to avoid it.  
  
Awkwardly he made it down the steep stairwell of the secret entrance he had created upon becoming a professor at this school, some fourteen years ago. As far as he knew the Headmaster was the only other sole who even had a remote idea that it existed. Along with being steep it was damp and treacherous, which was part of the reason he created it so near the lake. There would be very few people who would venture only this route.  
  
Upon entering one of the lesser used corridors immediately next to his chambers, Severus carefully scanned the area for intruders. Not that he expected anyone to be down here this time of day, none of the students even knew where he really slept. His Slytherins believed his rooms were near the Slytherin dorms. Out of the staff only McGonnagal and Dumbledore could find the rooms. Irvan, however, could find any room he wished, just not be able to enter without an invitation. He still did not understand why that was and Irvan couldn't seem to find an answer. Probably went back to a long forgotten curse.  
  
Severus glanced at the clock on the far wall of the entryway. Nearing lunch. He made the split second decision of making an appearance before the Evening Prophet could announce his release in conjunction with all types of slanders they could manage. He was afraid of what he might read in the issue of the Daily Prophet concerning his 'arrest.' But making an appearance required him to change robes and down dozens of potions so he would not suffer reticule for his pains, nor suffer the pains themselves.  
  
By the time he was ready, the clock struck Lunch and given the amount of time it would take him to reach the Great Hall, he figured he would arrive at about the time he normal did. Just after the students had taken their seats and had begun to consume mass quantities of food. He should arrive relatively unnoticed.  
  
He had been thinking many other things to stave off the lingering affect of Dementors and Azkaban, but he was not certain which thoughts were manifestations of his memories or ravings of insanity. There were some he hoped were from partial insanity.  
  
But one thing was certain, he was going to kill Moody. He'd kill Dumbledore too, if he thought there was any remote chance of actually pulling off the deed. But he vowed to kill Moody. He didn't care what position the retired Auror played in the Order; he was personally going to kill the man. Wasn't it bad enough he experienced the wrath of present Aurors and their treatment of supposed spies? Did the misshapen wizard have to show up time and again just to spite him?  
  
He wanted, in vain, to kill Dumbledore as well. He knew he could never achieve that goal. But had the old goat done anything to facilitate his release. He knew straight from Malfoy's mouth that he had been release solely because Malfoy had the Minister's Ear. Head more like it. Malfoy was conducting the Ministry through the puppet all to support the Dark Lord's designs. What had Dumbledore done all this time? He was now expected to go to Dumbledore and recount everything he had told the Aurors even though Moody had been present for most of the proceedings.  
  
Despite the fact that Dumbledore already knew of his arrival, Severus planned on surprising everyone by appearing in the Great Hall.  
  
Severus walked through the teacher's entrance, making a sweeping glance around the Hall. No one seemed to notice him in the least. His eye's lingered on his Slytherins; they appeared gloomy, talking little and focusing more on their plates than their surroundings. Severus knew that to be untrue. No matter how unassuming a Slytherin appeared, you could be sure he knew what was going on. As if to prove his point, a Hufflepuff stumbled into a group of fourth year Slytherins who were on their way to their seats. As one they broke apart and the Hufflepuff boy fell face first between them, the Slytherins ignoring it all. Severus had expected some for of retaliation, but was not extremely surprise there was none.  
  
Taking a glance at the Head Table, he noticed to his great disappointment the only seat remaining was between Lupin and Irvan. Whatever possessed the vampire to chose a seat next to the werewolf? He stalked towards it, oblivious to his own injuries, particularly because he refused to take stalk of the number and seriousness of them, but knowing they were almost devastating if he had to resort to a chant.  
  
Lupin noticed him first, or at least he expressed his surprise. "Severus! You're back!"  
  
"I am aware of that, Lupin," he responded tonelessly.  
  
"About time, if you ask me," Irvan added. "I don't suppose you are up for teaching this afternoon, are you?"  
  
"And why do you ask that?"  
  
"He's asking because Dumbledore has placed him as the Potion's Professor and Head of Slytherin while you were away. I don't think he fancies the job."  
  
"Quite right. I would prefer to not deal with children." Irvan, teach? That was interesting. Severus would have to ask about that. "Oh, look," the vampire added unconcernedly. "They're starting to notice." He took a sip of a drink Severus could not identify off hand, but knew it was not tea or pumpkin juice. Irvan was right. The chatter lessened and all eyes were turning to the Head Table.   
  
Dumbledore stood to address the students and staff alike. "As you can see, our Professor Snape has return, no worse for wear. He will return to teaching next week, after the weekend." And that was all he had for a welcome home. Not that he was expecting more. Polite applause rang from the Slytherin table. They never were ones to overtly express their emotions. He'd learn about their sentiments this evening when he went for a visit. Severus was surprise to see several of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs join. He did note, as expected, none of the Gryffindors took part.  
  
"I'd say the same people who took part in the protest are welcoming you home," Lupin whispered. "Aren't you going to acknowledge it?"  
  
He nodded to the students. He wasn't really in the best of form to stand, nor was he one to bask in the limelight.  
  
"I suppose you would be wondering about your students while you were gone," Lupin said, in hopes of starting a conversation. "There was a general protest when you left. All of the Slytherins walked out, followed by about half of he Ravenclaws and a goof number of the Hufflepuffs. I don't think they appreciated what the Ministry did."  
  
Why was Lupin telling him this? He heard vague reports of the Slytherins from Malfoy, not that they were much more than small tidbits of information meant to mislead the ignorant. He had known the Slytherins protested, but not the other Houses. At least he was safe in the knowledge Gryffindor could care less.  
  
"Not that you'd be disappointed, Severus, but Gryffindor didn't seem to mind your removal. But there were a few notable exceptions," Lupin continued. Exceptions? Who in their right mind would walk out for Gryffindor? "Harry Potter and Hermione Granger."   
  
Severus blinked. Those two? Those two would be the last he thought would have walked out. Though Longbottom was very high on that particular list.  
  
"Of course you can't forget that the Slytherins never came to dinner the entire time you were gone. What did they tell you, Irvan? I assume they told you something."  
  
His Slytherins not only walked out, but also refused to show for supper? That was shocking.  
  
"Brentwood only told me that as long as Severus was held by the Ministry they would remain in their common room during the evening meal."  
  
Something to think about. Brentwood? Yes, that was something the Head Boy would think of. Slytherin he may be, but he had a great deal of common sense when it came to dealing with other forces outside Slytherin. The boy would rise to great heights in the world, provided he didn't do anything stupid. Severus wondered how Brentwood managed to connivence the entire Slytherin House to participate in a nonviolent protest. Perhaps he should look into that.  
  
"That doesn't explain their change in attitude," Lupin said over him. "I've noticed that the Slytherins were much more complacent while Severus was gone."  
  
Complacent? Slytherins? That did not sound right. Another item he would have to ask Brentwood about. Strange things seemed to be happening while he was away. Complacent? What did the werewolf mean by that?  
  
"Excuse me," he said standing. Suddenly being in a room full of people was not the most pleasant sensation, nor the most desirable. He stood just outside the teachers entrance, knowing he should leave in case one of his peers wished to engage him in a conversation.  
  
He did not want that right now.  
  
He did not want to think about any of that right now.  
  
"Severus."  
  
Damn. He should not have lingered. "I am afraid I have nothing to say, Headmaster."  
  
"Come, we will discuss this in my office." There was a quiet firmness to the tone that bespoke no nonsense. And Severus was in no position to balk at such a request.  
  
He sat in the dazzling office waiting for the interrogation. That's all his life had been for the longest time. One interrogation after another. He didn't want to think about this. Didn't want to talk about this. He would have preferred Lupin's insane babble or even Irvan's endless complaints. Just not his recent encounter.  
  
"Minerva will be up shortly to return your wand. You made a good choice in turning it in to her. The Ministry could have demanded it of me, but not of Minerva. As she is not your employer." What was the fool playing at? Why didn't he just begin with the questions? "Moody told me verbatim what was said during the questionings. I was also told that Lucius Malfoy played the hand that brought you back." So the fool admitted to not doing anything.  
  
"As for the charm you apparently used to make it too the gates, I can only assume you were in such a state for it to be required. I am assuming this for it appears you failed to notice that there was someone just inside. I must ask you to remember your promise to me for I do not consider it dissolved in any way as a result of your breach."  
  
Severus looked up. Not dissolved? But surely. Who saw him? Dumbledore just said there was someone on the inside when he was dropped off. Why didn't he help? Why didn't he see him? Who was it? Surely a student wouldn't have been that far from the castle. A staff member? If so, why didn't they help? They were usually more than insistent when it came to that.  
  
"Severus? Do I have your word?" The query was soft, not demanding, but not backing down.  
  
Severus watched the Headmaster strangely. Word? Even after that incident? Where was he now? His third, perhaps fourth chance? Why was the Headmaster doing this?  
  
"Severus?" the old wizard probed again.  
  
"Yes, Headmaster. You have my word." Just to be broken again? Was his word even worth anything anymore?  
  
"Good. Now we're just waiting on . . ." There was a light knock on the door and Minerva entered. "Ah, just the witch we were waiting for."  
  
Minerva nodded to the Headmaster, but focused her attention on Severus. The younger wizard seemed far older than his mid-thirties. Literally he seemed worn out. The black eyes were matt, voids of nothingness, not even the small tinge of curiosity, or more often now the glittering of malicious glee. His form was incredibly gaunt. She had watched him enter then leave the Great Hall. The Potion Master had walk with a slight limp as though he was ignoring an injury but couldn't cure it.  
  
At present Severus was hunched over in the chair before Dumbledore's desk. His visage didn't hold any look of pain even while his body screamed it.  
  
"Here Severus," she said quietly as she might to a skittish stallion. Severus had never been as one would call tame. She brought out his wand, thirteen inches of dogwood and dragon heartstrings. They say the wand chooses the wizard. In this particular case, she believed the wand lends it strength and durability to the wizard.  
  
The moment Snape grasped the wand a noticeable difference come over him. Almost immediately he lost weariness of time. He was still in pain, but no longer dejected. His eye still hadn't returned to normal, but at least they were no longer dead to the world. Perhaps the return of his wand gave him some hope.  
  
Snape stood and without a word left the office.  
  
"How is he, Albus?"  
  
"Disconnected. I fear that while he recognizes where he is, he does not recognize our intentions."  
  
"He hasn't broken, has he?" That was her greatest fear. As cruel and sarcastic their Potions Master was, she couldn't imagine him any other way. She had seen proud witches and wizards break during their internment in Azkaban. Some screamed for no reason, some sat and said nothing, did nothing, some babbled nonsensically, and some lashed out unexpectedly. She didn't want to think of Severus becoming one of those.  
  
"No, not yet. He's bottled it up so well, I don't think he realizes it. I believe he is hiding it from himself. He might break if that wall crumbles suddenly. I fear he might," Dumbledore said sadly.  
  
Minerva turned her head to the door where Severus left. The man had to endure. They needed him to endure. If his wand meant anything, it meant he would endure.  
  
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AN: I'm feeling very insecure about this chapter. Let me know if there is anything that can be fixed and what you think. Thanks again for continuing to read even after the release of OotP. 


	23. Chapter 23

Contains mild spoilers pertaining to character abilities. I don't think it would harm the plot line of OotP at all. _____________________________________________  
  
Chapter 23  
  
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Irvan walked down to the dungeons apprehensively. There was no denying that he was not looking forward to this visit. It wasn't that he disliked Severus. It was just that Severus wasn't the most social of people and he found it difficult to associate and interact with him. Nor could he really begrudge the fact that his life was now in the antisocial wizard's hands. Not when he asked for it. No, this conversation was not to be looked forward to because it was regarded as taboo, as several topics were. Irvan had discovered that the hard way.  
  
As a vampire, any topic and every topic were discussed at any point. The only rule was mutual participation was mandatory. Among the colonies, Irvan had learned there was one topic that was never breached. That was creation. That was taboo. So, Irvan understood the importance of keeping silent on some issues, he just hadn't figured out which were not discussed.  
  
But based on previous violent outburst from Severus, Irvan could narrow the topic into three groups. Personal history, namely concerning his schooling days and family matters. Private feuds, though there were times when Severus deigned to make remark on this. It was taboo for Irvan to bring up the conversation and add to it. Severus made up his own rules. And lastly, perhaps most strongly, his dealings with Dumbledore.  
  
Surprisingly, his dealings with Voldemort were open to discussion depending on his mood. But there never had been an instant where dealings with the Ministry had arisen. But it was safe to say Severus would not like to discuss the matter.  
  
But nevertheless he was on his way to getting his head bit off. Sometimes he wondered about his own sanity.  
  
He entered without announcement. Not always the safest thing to do, but given the situation the only way to enter.  
  
Severus was sitting in an overstuffed chair facing a cold hearth, staring at it as though there was a fire dancing in the shadows.   
  
"Not feeling sorry for yourself, are you?" he asked.  
  
Severus did not move from his position. "You weren't invited."  
  
"I never am." Irvan waited. An answer like that should receive some sort of response.  
  
And Severus turned his head to peer through his curtain of stringy black hair. "And what was it you were telling me about invitations?" Irvan easily hid a grin.  
  
"Good to see you are still using your mind for something productive," he said. "Though I see you forgot your open invitation. You haven't renounced it yet."  
  
"Consider it renounced." Severus returned to gazing at the unlit hearth.  
  
"I'm afraid it will do no good tonight. I am already here."  
  
"Then what do you want?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Then why are you here?"  
  
"To figure out why you are approaching a catatonic state."  
  
"I would think that was self explanatory," Severus hissed dangerously.   
  
"Perhaps. There is reason enough, but you have never struck me as one to take those reasons." Irvan cast a scrutinizing glance over the scene once more, trying to discern any reaction.  
  
"I am handling it myself," Severus said stubbornly.  
  
Irvan raised an eyebrow and looked doubtfully at the half empty decanter resting on the end table. "So I see." Perhaps a more direct approach would spur Severus into action. As it was, the wizard was allowing his mental block to grow steadily stronger which would make things incredibly worse when it broke.   
  
Taking up position before the fireplace, he began, "Severus, you probably don't realize the extent to which you are potentially harming yourself. The level of achievement you have in Occlumency is turning to your disadvantage. I've seen this done before and the results were never, how to put this delicately, -- ah -- for lack of a better term, pretty. I am aware that Dumbledore is accomplished in Legilimency, but he is not strong enough to break the barrier you are building against you memories.  
  
"He is well aware that something is amiss. And I am certain you could hide this from Voldemort, as you seem to he hiding it from yourself. But when this crumbles, and it will, you will break. And after you can rebuild or ignore."  
  
"I do not need you telling me how to order my thoughts!" Severus rose menacingly, bringing his wand to bear. Irvan finally realized the wand had be out the entire time as though loosing sight of it might make it disappear.  
  
"I haven't reached that point, yet!" Irvan said standing his ground. Yes, as a whole he knew when to back down and this conversation was digressing to that point quickly, but contrary to his learned instincts he was going to remain firm in is decision. Whether Severus wanted it or not, an insane mind was as good as death and Irvan felt it necessary to keep Severus sane. "Though I might consider it if you fail to order them yourself!"  
  
"Oh?" Severus had reached a dangerous low. Irvan was treading on thin ice and one wrong statement would end disastrous. "And what would you suggest?"  
  
"I would start," he said quietly in the same tone Severus was using, "by telling you to slowly remove the wall you've built while in the company of someone you trust."  
  
There was a pause. For one who enjoy silence, Irvan was wishing for any sound, even that of a fire.  
  
"I'm afraid that is not a choice. Considering how I don't know anyone I can trust."  
  
"Then do so with Dumbledore."  
  
"I will not let that old fool break into my mind!"  
  
"I didn't say you had to! You let the barrier defuse! I'm only suggesting that you have someone in the same room incase you can't handle it." Wrong choice of words judging by the glint in Severus's eyes. Irvan figured he had gone too far with that phrase, but it was too late now.  
  
The curse was unexpected and violent, sending him crashing into the nearest wall. He dropped to all fours as he shook off the shock and dizziness. "All right. I probably deserved that for lack of tact," he muttered through clenched teeth. Deserved it or not, Irvan did not enjoy being thrown around like a rag doll.  
  
"Can't handle it? Are you suggesting that I am incapable of viewing my own memories?"  
  
Irvan looked up from his position to find Severus glaring down at him in a truly spiteful manner. "Not in a direct sense! Many great Occlumenist have hidden memories from themselves, not even terrifying memories, and when their walls crumble, it is not the memories that cause the man to break but the sheer turmoil of the flood and the unexpected agony of the breakage. No matter what you have experienced physically, you are unprepared for that type of mental breakdown."  
  
The argument was logical, but Severus did not seem to be in the mood for logic. In fact he seemed to be preparing to leave. Which only meant one thing: Severus was being summoned. "Be glad I don't have time to waste with you," Severus hissed as he past dressed in his Death Eater robes and carrying the mask.  
  
"I would prefer you forego the dramatics and pretenses. You are intoxicated and I'm not entirely sure you can hide the barrier from Voldemort. And if he sees that, he will most certainly suspect you of hiding other things."  
  
"He already does. Now I have a job to do." With that Severus stalked out of the rooms. Slowly Irvan stood shakily. He had been thrown against the wall fairly hard and the room still hadn't stopped spinning. Also the sight of a malicious Death Eater standing over him brought back undesired memories. It wasn't Severus that he was afraid of, nor was he afraid of Death Eaters. While he might not be as strong as other vampires his age, he was able to take down a small force of wizards, when he was healthy.  
  
He decided he need a drink before he dealt with Severus again. It was hard to keep blood fresh for long, but mixing it with milk help keep its potency and could be heated or chilled to taste. He preferred it warmed to body temperature or just slightly lower as when newly mixed in cold milk. Tonight he might mix in some alcohol. He had to be careful with the amount. His systems weren't use to digesting liquor. Many Turned had trouble with this concept. They usually drank too much and became sick, requiring much more blood than normal.  
  
It was a very wasteful process since most of that blood was regurgitated out with the excess alcohol. Some Turned even tried to eat foodstuffs. Irvan had never enjoyed the sight of solid foods and could not understand why the Turned lamented over the loss.  
  
He added what would be considered a swallow to his drink and sat facing the hearth to contemplate.  
  
Harry didn't seem restless enough for him to be having the beginnings of a vision. He could monitor and stop the vision from here, through he preferred to be near should the vision try to draw more energy than expected.  
  
Maybe nothing would happen tonight. There had been several meetings like that. That would be a pleasant relief.  
  
Though he wondered if he should inform the Headmaster of Severus's departure. Severus had not seemed to be in the state of mind where he would have remembered. With a wave of his hand he brought a quill, ink, and parchment to him and wrote a quick note explaining the situation.  
  
~ Severus had to take a walk this evening and I don't know when he will return. I will be watching for him. ~  
  
Next he called for a House-elf to deliver the note directly to Dumbledore.  
  
Then he sat back to finish his drink in peace. As he figured it, Severus would take a few hours to return which gave him plenty of time to enjoy the quiet. He never had to waste time walking out to the Apparation point.   
  
But one thing bothered him.  
  
Severus was being called the moment he was released from Ministry custody.  
  
That did not sit well. Severus had already announced that Voldemort knew he was acting the role of a double-agent and suspected him of not being entirely faithful. So why did Severus continue? If his jaunt with the Ministry was not enough to convict him of actively working against Voldemort, then what was?  
  
Now anxious, he quaffed the remainder of his drink. And promptly sputtered as it proved far too much for one swallow. Quite humiliating not to keep one's food down.  
  
He desperately wanted Harry to have a vision. Bugger the consequences. At least he would know if Severus was going to live through the night.  
  
The room became to small to house his restlessness. He would have better luck in the Forest. At least there he would have a quicker shot at Severus should something untold happened.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
Albus Dumbledore had just closed an impromptu meeting with most of his staff. It had begun after dinner when Severus had abruptly left the Hall. Albus had wanted to follow him, but he was otherwise engaged in a conversation with Minerva. And the topic was Severus. She was concerned for his sanity. The fact that he acted no different than before he left made one wonder what the man was hiding.  
  
And Albus knew the wizard was hiding a great deal. He didn't think he could break the barriers because he couldn't see them. He only felt where there was a lack. It was almost like searching Sirius's mind. There was nothing tangible to say memories were being suppressed, but there was a lacking that the victim didn't notice.  
  
The difficulties lay in the fact that he could do anything to help Sirius because Severus was the one who knew how, but that could very well be part of what Severus was hiding. Not to mention Severus was the one who created this dilemma. And Dumbledore wasn't completely prepared to forgive that transgression. He needed more information before he could conclude that mess.  
  
However Severus needed to be sane enough for that conversation to take place. Albus was not eager to drop into an interrogation so soon after the Ministry's attempts. It would cause Severus to close further and without the aid of interrogation tools no answers would be found.  
  
He would have gone down to talk with Severus. Had not the vampire followed immediately after. Had not he received the short blunt message Irvan had sent. Had he not been detained by Sirius after Minerva had left. Had he not needed to reassure the staff of Severus's loyalty and sanity. The former was accepted sooner than the latter.  
  
He knew instantly why Sirius declined to assist Severus to the castle. Nor could he be disappointed. Severus would never had accepted assistance, especially from Sirius. And given what he knew of their relations, granted Sirius was unaware of a great deal, he was surprised that Sirius had not attempted to kill him then and there. The incident with Pettigrew being the most recent remembered event.  
  
He needed to talk to Severus but could not be certain he was learning everything until the self imposed barriers were removed. And Severus would not thank him for trying to remove them for him. He would have to wait until his Potions Master was ready. Which meant waiting not knowing when Voldemort might initiate his plans involving Sirius.  
  
Albus Dumbledore prided himself on being a patient man. Dealing with Severus Snape demanded it at times. But he was anxious to remove the curse affecting Sirius.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
Irvan came upon a distressing scene. Severus and Sirius were locked in an argument he had no desire of knowing the origins of. He had long since learned never to aggravate a wizard of Severus's power and tempter. He had meet many along the way and was just now understanding how to avoid Severus's wrath.  
  
"So, I've been meaning to ask, what did you ever do to make the Aurors's leave you in that state?" Sirius asked maliciously. Wrong question. Irvan watched as Sever stiffened. He recognized it immediately. Sirius had been there when the Aurors dropped off Severus. Not good.  
  
"It's more the fact that I exist," Snape responded coldly. Irvan had never heard that voice drip with such hatred. Mostly it rang with disgust when addressing him.  
  
It was Black's turn to contract muscles in surprise. If Irvan read the posture correctly, with added help of sensing emotions, Black recognized that phrase from another time. But Irvan couldn't tell when or what context.  
  
"Is that so? Decide to go complaining to your master about their treatment? I'm sure Voldemort was pleased to find you mentally intact."  
  
Severus winced at the name of the Dark Lord. Must be able to tolerate it when said by one who knows the powers he is invoking. Black should know and should fear the name. But he didn't. He was just ignorant of who he called into being. Irvan knew. And he feared retribution when the Dark Lord came into the knowledge of his survival. But as a vampire, he refused to address anyone as anything other than their name. Names were not what caused the fear, so names should not be fear; but the man behind the name could terrify.  
  
"Don't you have somewhere to be, Black?"  
  
Black produced a lopsided grin. "No, not really. Just thought I'd make sure you were really on our side. I'm still not certain. I mean, how could Voldemort let you live after the Ministry cleared you. But then I heard Lucius Malfoy was the one that got you freed. That leads me to believe than Voldemort wants to keep you here to spy on Dumbledore. Can't let that happen, can we?" Severus glared at Black, not saying a word. Almost casually, Sirius withdrew his wand, toying with it as though uncertain as to what it was.  
  
"Put that away, Black. You're logic is as perverse as usual."  
  
"So I'm just going to have to discover the truth myself," Black continued as if Severus had said nothing. "Just what was that little meeting all about, Snape? Planning to overtake the school, or just some random Muggle baiting?"  
  
"You have no right to question me," Snape lowered his voice to a dangerous level. And Irvan thought Severus had suicidal tendencies. Black seemed to be tempting fate a bit much tonight.  
  
"Perhaps not. That is a job for Dumbledore, right? And the Aurors. They must have been extremely pleased with your answers if they let you go. What did you tell them? What Dark Magic did you use to get around Veritaserum? I saw what you did at the gates. That little charm was not lost on me. Tell me, was Voldemort proud of you when you told him about that? How about when you told him how you lied through Veritaserum? I listened to Moody dictate your interrogations. Absolutely none of it match our records. Your little half answers, half truths wouldn't have lasted long if the Ministry had their way."  
  
"Since when did you support the Ministry. As I recall they locked you away without a trial."  
  
Black merely continued. "The Aurors would have broken you. I'm surprise they didn't. Given what Moody said happened. Got some Dark Charm to fortify you against that? What say you, Snivellus?" Sirius raised his wand threateningly. Irvan had no idea what would happen, but he thought it would be best if a duel never took place.  
  
Irvan saw it first. Quicker than humanly possible, Snape drew his wand and cast a spell. The Killing Curse to be exact.  
  
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AN: Don't kill me until after I finish the story. Then you may seek retribution for cliff hangers and the like. I needed a break in the story so I could change views. And make it more suspenseful.  
  
Elfmoon87: I do have a reason as to why I'm not letting Sirius see thestrals. It deals with J.K.R.'s explanation that it takes a while to comprehend death. I'm going to try to put in a more complete explanation during the next couple of chapters. 


	24. Chapter 24

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Chapter 24  
  
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Sirius didn't know what to think. All he had planned was disarming Snape and taking him directly to Dumbledore. His comments surely didn't illicit that reaction. Watching as the green streak of magic shoot towards him, he was certain that Snape had snapped. He did have time to wonder how slow death was.  
  
He blinked, somehow his reactions didn't work right. Ducking was almost impossible.  
  
The next moment his eyes opened and he was standing in some clearing free of Snape. Was this death? He certainly felt alive. But he hadn't gotten out of the way, had he?  
  
He was willing to admit to himself that he was confused. Plain and simple. If he was alive, how. If he was dead, this was not what he was expecting. Might as well look around and figure out where he was.  
  
And a vampire was not what he wanted to see. But at least it answered his questions.  
  
"He tried to kill me," were the first words out of his mouth, before he could stop himself.  
  
"Yes, I saw that," the vampire said emotionlessly.  
  
"He tried to KILL me!"  
  
"Consider it pay back for your attempt at that feat. Now, I should go see to a possibly deranged wizard." Irvan made to leave.  
  
"Deranged?" All right, he wasn't thinking too clearly. Though a deranged Snape solved everything.  
  
"Yes, being in your presence is enough to make anyone deranged."  
  
"But he tried to kill me!"  
  
"Your point?"  
  
Point? That was the point wasn't it. A Death Eater tried to kill him. A Death Eater Dumbledore supposedly trusted. That action hadn't convinced him of a secured allegiance.  
  
"I suggest you return to the castle," Irvan spoke up, sounding incredibly tired. "Take this up with Dumbledore."  
  
Of course he would take this up with Dumbledore. Perhaps now the Headmaster would understand that Snape was never on their side. Allies did not go around casting the Killing Curse because they were slightly annoyed. Granted Sirius expected Snape to do something other than stand there when he go going with the accusations. Casting the Third Unforgivable only proved that he was not a good guy.   
  
Snape equaled Death Eater equaled traitor equaled bad guy equaled slimy, annoying git.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
"Avada Kedavra!"  
  
The next instant his intended victim was gone. He knew from experience that the victim of that curse did not disappear.  
  
It had seemed the right thing to do at the time. There had been a breach in his fortifications, stemming from Black. His reasoning: remove the offending object.  
  
It had seemed the right thing to do.  
  
Then why was he staring at his wand as if it had betrayed him?  
  
He had not lost his control during his encounter with the Dark Lord. It had been much the same as his discussion with Dumbledore. The Dark Lord knew everything he had wanted from Malfoy. True he had asked for clarifications in some matters, but left most of the ordeal behind and moved on to future events.  
  
He had actually congratulated himself on not spilling everything he knew to the Dark Lord. His mind had bulged with the need to release. He hated to admit it but Irvan had been right. He had built a dam against certain memories. He could feel it now. He could feel it now because there was a hole in the wall. A hole that had been bored through by a president Black asking the wrong questions, forcing him to try and recall what had actually happened.  
  
He could patch the hole, right? It would take to much time to remove the wall. Patching wouldn't take as long. Then he could find the time to dismantle it slowly, so as not to be overwhelmed. That would have to do. Patching would only be temporary. But that was all be needed. He just need to keep anything from spill over the dam before he was ready. He hated the vampire for being right.  
  
Though he needed to know where that pest, Black, had gone off to. And wanted to know how he had gotten away. Severus wasn't too disappointed the missed. He hadn't wanted to succeed, though that would have been a bonus. But he had done something to keep the animagus alive. And received the wrath of Dumbledore for it. But he couldn't quite recall what that deed was. The Dark Lord was involved. He knew that.  
  
So was a breach in his promise to Dumbledore. Re-giving his word barely made sense. He just couldn't remember why he had broken his word.  
  
He shouldn't dwell on that. If he didn't remember, then thinking too hard might cause the barrier to break. He did not need that right now.  
  
He didn't need a lot of things right now. One of them was the barrier. Which he could not remember why he had erected the thing in the first place. Though he bet he had something to do with his incarceration in the Ministry. And everything Black had been ranting about.  
  
But why was it there? Better yet, how had it come to be there?  
  
No, he did not want the answers. Answers would cause problems. He needed to get back to the castle before Black cast all the blame on him. It was probably too late. Black was always the first to explain the situation. Why would now be different?  
  
But if it wasn't for Black, he wouldn't be in this mess. He would be on his way back to the castle, give a cursory report to Dumbledore, and be in bed, asleep. Instead, Black had to show up and shout unfounded accusations at him. Which in turn broke through his defenses. Which he would still be unaware of had it not been for Black.  
  
Barriers like that were normally used against penetration. Irvan had mentioned something. Occlumency. Damn it. Occlumency is the practice of blocking foreign intrusions. But it was possible to block things from yourself. Not common, but documented. And documented in the highest mastery.  
  
He needed to think this through. But he needed to do that back in the castle. Back in the castle where no one could find him accidentally.  
  
But why was the barrier collapsing? Surely nothing short of strong Legilimency would cause that.  
  
He needed to patch this hole. Memories were starting to come through. At a time when he needed to think not remember. Think and get out of the forest.  
  
This was not a good time to reminisce. This was not a good time.  
  
* * * * * * * * *  
  
Irvan stood just out of sight, watching. Severus was not aware of anything. A very bad sign. He was sorely tempted to look into Severus's mind and try to determine the damage. Granted that was not a good idea, even if it wasn't against his promise. But even his promise could be breached if he thought Severus was going to loose it. If this was going to continue, he might hazard a try.  
  
Though he should do so before the damage becomes irreparable.  
  
Severus was being to look ill. Not to mention beginning to mutter nonsensically.  
  
Slowly, he pushed his awareness of Severus deeper. His plan was to slip in without notice and stop any breach in the barrier that he could. Severus would not he happy about any of this, but it was likely the best option, as Severus was currently oblivious to anything.  
  
When he touched the outskirts of Severus's mind, he was unprepared for the chaos. There were no solid memories to view. They were flittering back and forth through a widening hole. A hole was seemed to be varying sizes, if one could measure it, as if someone was trying to close it and failing.  
  
Tentatively he moved to assist.  
  
Only receive a full blast curse square in the chest. He glanced off a nearby tree, slowing his decent.  
  
"Never. Never enter my mind. Ever," Severus was shouting.  
  
"That's twice," he grumbled, bracing himself against a tree trunk. "Twice. Should have learned form the first time." Ignoring Severus for the moment, he concentrated on standing and clearing his own head from the residuals of Snape's chaos. An amazing task considering the volume level. "Severus, look," he interrupted. "Nothing is getting done here." Severus stopped abruptly and released his patented glare. "I would rather find you in the castle before you implode."  
  
"You will not order me to do anything." Irvan watched as the Potions Master paused as though thinking. There was a thought that was coming together.  
  
"Where is he?" Severus demanded.  
  
Irvan regarded the wizard before him coolly. Oh, he knew who Severus was referring to. He just wasn't convinced his charge wouldn't rampage off in attempts to finish what he started. "On his way to the castle," he responded tonelessly.   
  
He was suddenly feeling very close to two thousand years. This entire situation was very easily too much for him to handle. Petty hatred, yes, that he could deal with. Attempted murder, also not a problem. Consolidating a broken mind, something that he knew, even if it was unusual. But having all of these problems isolated into one case was overwhelming. And he, a vampire with little knowledge of wizard sanity, was suppose to keep a key link between the two factions of war from collapse when all signs point to inevitable failure.  
  
Why him? Suddenly getting killed by a slayer or a werewolf was looking to be the better prospect. At least the dead don't have to live a cursed life.  
  
Without warning Severus swept by him.  
  
Perhaps he had been wrong. Perhaps he couldn't handle Severus. There were far too many instances where the wizard had gotten the better of him. And now the man was going to implode his own mind because he refused to take the time and deal with the situation. Not to take in account the wonderful invention that was coursing through Black's veins. Things were definitely not in his favor. The only thing he could hope for was for Dumbledore to see through this mess with a clear eye.  
  
Sighing he picked himself up and trotted back to the castle. Perhaps a third account would help. This was ludicrous. Why did he have to get stuck in the middle of this? There were several time throughout the ages where he could have laid down and died. But no. He had to be the idiot that kept on living. Whatever god existed sure had a funny way of protecting fools.  
  
"Blood and bloody ashes, the next time Severus was to commit suicide I'll just bloody let him."  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
Sirius's unexpected arrival so late at night caught him off guard. The convict had marched into the Headmaster's office raging about how Snape tried to kill him. Offering the normal lemon sherbet calmed the man somewhat, enough to where he could converse and not rant to himself.  
  
Dumbledore listened and waited for it to wash out of Sirius's system. Severus cast the Third Unforgivable. In a situation where it could have easily been avoided.   
  
He had to school his face not to show his disappointment. Sirius would misread the expression as a disappointment of him. Sirius had done what he could in a trying scene. It was Severus he was worried about.  
  
"He tried to kill me, Professor. Aren't you going to do something?"  
  
Glance back at his former student sitting in righteous rage, he felt weary. No one should have gone through what Sirius had. "Yes. I will discuss this with Severus when he comes in. I cannot do more until I have listened to him." If only he could discuss the other issues surrounding Sirius Black at the moment. If only he could discuss those issues with Remus and Harry.  
  
There were too many problems to face. He had just received Severus from Azkaban. Had discovered to his dismay that Sirius was a potential pawn for Voldemort. Now this.  
  
Dumbledore was about to console Sirius again when his office door opened once more. This time smoothly, not banging loudly against the bookshelves. He was very surprised to see Severus walk through the threshold. His Potions Master normally rapped softly on the door and waited to be beckoned.  
  
"Forgive my intrusion, Headmaster, but I thought you would wish to see me immediately," Snape said silkily.  
  
Albus Dumbledore could sense immediately that there was something wrong with Severus Snape. Nothing physical, despite the slight defensive stance the wizard was taking now that he was fully aware of Sirius Black. No, the change was in his mental stability. Before, during dinner, that problem was different and contained. Currently, the mental balance seemed to be teetering on some undefined edge.  
  
"Yes. Please have a seat, Severus. I gather there was some excitement upon your return from Voldemort?" he asked in his most unpressing tones. The Headmaster was not one to miss the calculating glance Snape shot at Sirius. Over all the scene was playing out remarkably similar to one at another time. Severus did not respond verbally, but his shifts in posture spoke volumes. The poor boy already knew he was in trouble and couldn't get out gracefully. Or at all. "Did you cast the Killing Curse?" No answer. Eyes flashed but made no contact. Mental activity was still rushing. "Severus, I need you to either confirm or deny the accusation."  
  
Dumbledore wasn't going to dress up the issue and try to dance around the claim. Severus would find it disgraceful. However the Headmaster disliked being the tough taskmaster, and after the incident with the Ministry, he was loath to play the interrogator.  
  
"Why are you asking him? We both know he did. There's no question," Sirius said loudly from his chair.  
  
"Sirius, please. When it comes to trials, no matter how apparently obvious the conclusion seems, the accused has the right to confirm or deny the charges."  
  
Faintly, Dumbledore scarcely heard Sirius mutter under his breath, "Tell that to the Ministry."  
  
"Severus," he prompted again. He knew Sirius spoke truth. The Gryffindor never did otherwise.  
  
"So what if I did," was the answer. Not unexpected, but not desirable. The Headmaster had hoped there was a mistake. But perhaps his Potions Master was more disjointed than he had thought.  
  
"Yes or no, Severus," he returned tartly. Snape recognized the tone for what it was worth and sat a little straighter.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Dumbledore released the breath he was holding. "This is a grave matter, Severus. You know what the consequences are for casting an Unforgivable." He didn't bother to hide his disappointment this time. But at least he had not had to demand the wizard's wand for proof.  
  
"He's alive, isn't he. No irreparable harm done."  
  
The statement caught him unprepared. Obviously he wasn't the only one who recognized the situation from the odd sense of dejavu. * You're alive, aren't you. No irreparable harm done. * Had he really been that naive? To think no harm would have come from that episode. Though Severus said it with much more malice.  
  
"Severus, that was merely a prank. Completely different from this."  
  
"Forgive me, Headmaster," Snape said slowly, being sure the words did not miss their mark. "Only a prank. How foolish of me to confuse the issue."  
  
"Aw, you're not still on about that? That was years ago," Sirius plowed through. "What a stupid thing to brood over." Luckily Sirius deceased when he caught sight of Dumbledore's warning look.  
  
Severus had a right to be disgruntled over that incident. Granted Sirius was right about it being ridiculous to hold a grudge for so long, Snape was correct in desiring a just conclusion. Just as Sirius was demanding at the present.  
  
"Then you understand, Severus, the stance I must take in light of this event."  
  
"Of course, Headmaster." The answer was cold. "Far be it from me to keep you from serving justice. Then you also see how I must retract our conversation we had just following the midday meal. When you reach your decision, I do hope you find it relevant to inform me." The Professor rose to leave.  
  
"Severus, I have not finished. Sit." There was some hesitation before the man obeyed. "Why?"  
  
"As I recall, motivation was not required to convict a man." The pause lasted an inordinate amount of time. "Surely Black as informed you of his unfounded accusations."  
  
"His words should not have provoked that response." The Headmaster hazard a glance at Sirius. The animagus watched intently as the drama unfolded. He had gotten what he wanted and was now content to be an observer. "What prompted you to choose that curse?"  
  
The man in question was struggling against something. Something deep within the confines of his mind, where Dumbledore had only been once. There was something wrong with the barrier Snape had constructed to deter the Aurors. Something Dumbledore couldn't see. Something Severus had hidden well. But what all had the boy hidden?  
  
"What prompted you to use an Unforgivable?"  
  
The struggle intensified. Would it be better to smash the wall now or more beneficial to stop hammering away at it and slowly remove it?  
  
"Was it something at the meeting you went to tonight?" Severus didn't seem to have heard him. He was staring at the small glass orb resting innocently on the corner of the Headmaster's desk. "Why the Killing Curse?" he asked softly this time.  
  
He wasn't surprised to see Snape's wand pointing directly at his throat. Not surprised, but relaxed. This was a serious problem. Black stood to assist, or take down Snape, but Dumbledore cautiously waved him to his seat.  
  
The rigid stance the former Death Eater took told tales of his proficient history at the duels and the troubled state of his mind. "Why the Killing Curse?" he asked again. He knew perfectly well Severus would never answer his question. He also knew that was not what Severus was contemplating. Then without warning and without a word, said wizard sent a violent stream of magic straight into the glass orb.  
  
A door slammed shut as the after effects lingered, blinding those in the room.  
  
"Thank Zeus. I didn't know if he would realize what the glass was for," a deep disembodied voice said from behind the Headmaster.  
  
"What the hell are you doing here?" Sirius was always quick to anger at the unknown. Irvan showed himself and walked around to study the glowing ball of the clear, hard substance.  
  
"He came in before you arrived, Sirius. Irvan told me what had happened from the moment he come upon you and Severus. I am quite glad he did. Otherwise you wouldn't be here to demand Severus committal to Azkaban."  
  
Eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What do you mean?"  
  
Dumbledore glanced at Irvan, silently requesting him to explain. Pursing his lips, the vampire complied. "Your reflexes have been dulled from disuse, so it was very unlikely that you would have dodged the curse. But still plausible. To be on the safe side, I increased the rate at which you move. When I was certain you had reach a safe speed where I could move with you, I took you out of range of Severus and his curse. I believe I told you once that I do not intend to deprive Harry of the only thing that resembles a relative." The vampire nodded, signaling he had finished. "I should take this down to Severus," he said, gingerly plucking the orb from the desk.  
  
"You sped me up?"  
  
"In layman's terms, yes. It takes a great deal of energy to do so. So if you will excuse me, I'll take this to Severus and be about my way." Irvan decisively left the room before anything else could be said.  
  
"What did he mean, he sped me up?"  
  
"Have you never wondered how Irvan reached here before you? After all, he had to go see to Severus first."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Vampire have a unique magic about them that lets them speed up, shall we say, their persons so they can travel at near instantaneous speeds. Of course there is also their magical skill that allows them to pass through objects, much like a ghost if I had to liken it to anything."  
  
"Did he tell you?"  
  
"Oh no, Irvan didn't tell me. I had spoken with Sybil's father before the war with Grendelwald. He was more than delighted to answer my questions about vampires. A shame he was killed by one."  
  
Sirius remained silent for several long moments. Dumbledore didn't pry, nor did he even attempt to search his former student's mind for a hint of what he was thinking.  
  
"What's with that piece of glass?"  
  
Ah, yes. The glass orb. Sirius had always been curious. Not as much as Severus, but curious nonetheless.   
  
"A perfect sphere of glass can be a receptacle for memories. Instead of using a pensive, you temporarily store memories in it. The problem with an orb is that memories can be lost should the glass be imperfect or break. It is also very temporary. Memories cannot last longer than forty-eight hours in a sphere. Longer and they begin to fade and are lost. I can only speculate that Severus is rebuilding his memory after placing such a large amount in that orb. But enough for tonight. You should get some rest."  
  
Sirius nodded and took the floo network to Remus's rooms.  
  
Dumbledore was worried. Would replacing Severus's memories stabilize his mind? Or had Azkaban taken his sanity as it had so many others. 


	25. Chapter 25

Forgive the delay, Sirius was not cooperating.  
  
I'm surprised no one made comment on Sirius's last though in the previous chapter before he went to Dumbledore. More so at the lack of reaction to Severus's renouncement. You all must be very accepting.  
  
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Chapter 25  
  
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It had been a several of weeks since Snape's return and for the most part everything was quiet. Quiet in the strange deathly sort of way. In Potions no one dared to breathe in the wrong direction without fear of bringing the wrath of the Potions Master down around their ears. It seemed no year was safe. And Dumbledore hadn't seen any necessity in reigning in his Potions Professor.  
  
No year was safe and neither was any House. Granted Slytherin suffered the least, they too recognized the ill disposition of their Head and at an early stage began to tread lightly whenever their Head of House stalked into view.  
  
But it was without parallel that Gryffindor House captured the bulk of ill will. Most especially the inseparable trio, consisting of Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and above all Harry Potter. It was shocking at the number of slight transgressions, ones that any normal teacher would over look, that Snape looked to take points. But never once did he blow up. Not even when Neville blew his umpteenth cauldron. Not even when Harry had foolishly demanded to know, after one detention, why Snape was being such an ass.  
  
Snape had definitely not been happy about that. But he never once yelled. In his quietest and deadliest whispers, he answered, "I'm sure you already formulated an answer to that. Twenty points from Gryffindor. Now get out."  
  
Harry never looked back. Though if he had, he would not have been surprised to find a twisted smile on the Professor's face. But he wasn't ready to dare and find out.  
  
Plus he knew that his godfather and Professor Lupin knew what was going on. They just wouldn't tell him. He was bright enough to know something had happened that night Snape returned. And it did not affect only Snape. Sirius was also quieter than normal. In all of his visits to Remus and Sirius, his godfather was reluctant to speak on any topic related to Snape. Why? Harry couldn't puzzle it out. But there was something he had missed. And he was determined to find out.  
  
There hadn't been anything normal with his friends since Snape's return. Evan had return, but he was likely to avoid any discussion revolving around Sirius. Remus wasn't apt to talk about anything that Sirius refused. And Sirius refused. Hermione and Ron weren't much better. They were concerned, but not fanatic. In fact they had been spending more time together than in the past. Granted he spent much of his free time with Sirius, he couldn't blame them.  
  
* Oh, will you stop obsessing with it and go talk to him. * Harry started as Evan popped into his head. But it was more the topic that surprised him. Evan never brought up Sirius. * That is because you deliberate over it far too often. *  
  
* And you want me to just talk to him. That seems to be your normal advice. *  
  
* Yes. Usually it is the best advice. *  
  
* I have tried to talk to him. He just ignores the question or says it was none of my business. *  
  
* Surely you have noticed that he wants to say something. The only reason he doesn't is the werewolf. *  
  
* And why did you never tell me. *  
  
* What? *  
  
* I know you heard me. Why did you never tell me this before? *  
  
* Uh. Well. I was hoping you'd figure it out yourself. *  
  
* You didn't intend to tell me now, did you. *  
  
* No, not really. * Was him or did Evan sound nervous and slightly guilty.  
  
* What do you know about this mess? *  
  
* I should not have said anything about this. I wouldn't have if I had known you would demand answers such as those. I know what I know from your mind. *  
  
* Come on, we're going to visit Sirius. *  
  
* What? I am not going. *  
  
* Yes you are. You suggested it and I want your opinion on the matter. *  
  
* I'm hardly the one to seek out for an opinion. *  
  
* Why not? You've studied humans for who knows how long. You should understand what is going on better than any of us. You aren't bias are you? *  
  
* No. *  
  
* Fine, then. Let's go. *  
  
Harry suddenly felt more energized now that he was on his way to solve this question. But he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know. Sirius probably had a good reason to keep it secret. But he was determined to know what happened that night.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
With the Christmas holidays fast approaching and the Ministry making uncontested demands to fortify the wards and every unessential personnel were to evacuate Hogwarts for the duration of the break. And the essential personnel were limited to the Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress. And Dumbledore only had a few members of the staff and one student he needed to find a place for.  
  
He had asked those particular wizards to his office today and was waiting for them to arrive. Severus was due within the hour. It was perhaps the most unfair assignment he had to force upon the man. When all was said and done, he was being kicked out of his sanctuary without any preparation or reimbursement. Not to mention immediate medical care should he fall on the ill will of Voldemort.  
  
But at least Severus had another abode with equal protection of Hogwarts if not more wards to out do the school's desire to be hidden. Remus and Sirius didn't have that safe haven. As for Harry, returning him to the Dursleys was impossible as his relatives refused to have the boy over the winter break. Hopefully all that could be mended.  
  
"Ah, come in Severus." He needed to speak with his Potions Master before he could enact his plans for the winter. "How has your research on for a solution to Sirius's affliction?" He had been pushing for an antidote ever since Severus returned. Possibly harder than he would had the incident of that night no occurred.  
  
"Any potion created to dissolve the memory will be ineffective so long as the curse remains. The best option without the counter curse is to slowly break down the potion and hope it is enough for Black to break the barriers himself."  
  
"Was there any information in your books concerning a counter curse?"  
  
"No, sir. I never thought there would be a counter curse so easily found. If one does exist." Severus spoke in his normal monotone used to convey any sort of information. Sitting directly across from the Headmaster, Severus looked behind Dumbledore's face, avoiding eye contact. A normal motion for the younger wizard, exaggerated upon the sever dressing down following the incident.  
  
"Then you will be able to use the holidays to research in the libraries of Ciara Aloysius and perfect an antidote." Severus nodded curtly.  
  
"You do understand what the Ministry is planning, Headmaster."  
  
"Of course, the re-warding of Hogwarts," he said pleasantly, already knowing the real objective.  
  
"And possible sabotage of their efforts," Severus stated firmly. Without a doubt the man suspected a great deal and not without cause. "Not to mention the information Fudge's Aurors will report straight into the ear of Malfoy. Headmaster, it is the perfect cover for the Dark Lord to gain the information you do not trust me with." Severus was bitter, there was no denying that tone. Bitter that he had to leave his solitude for some ridiculous endeavor. Bitter because a good deal of the wards were his handiwork and were going to be torn apart by 'bumbling fools,' to quote him. And bitter because he wasn't in a position where he could have the knowledge of the wards of Hogwarts. Dumbledore was aware of the good it would do should Severus know. His nighttime wanderings would be more productive.  
  
"I am aware of those possibilities, Severus. However, I cannot deny the Ministry entry based on possibilities. While trying to keep good faith with the Minister. I have requested a few of my own for this detail, which is reasonable. They will watch what is done and alter anything that could threaten the integrity of the wards. And of course you have leave to prowl the hallways searching for sabotage on your return." The Potions Master narrowed his eyes in annoyance but didn't respond.  
  
"Now, as for your stay in Ciara Aloysius I must request that you allow others to remain over the break."  
  
"No! I will do no such thing. There is a reason Ciara Aloysius has become a legend and invisible. It is precisely because the only ones who visit are direct family and dead men."  
  
"I realize this. But it is the safest thing for them." Dumbledore could see the thoughts race across Snape's mind. He knew exactly who he was going to be stuck with and could care less about their safety. Or so he would have you believe. "It is because Ciara Aloysius is not thought to exist that makes it so."  
  
"I refuse to allow them in my family home."  
  
"I warned you of this Dumbledore. Forcing this issue is no good."  
  
The portraits were now voice-fully awake and clamoring loudly against the one who spoke. "Phineas, no one asked for your opinion." The former Headmaster Armando Dippet rang above the others.  
  
"Perhaps someone should. Many of these issues could be smoothed over."  
  
Dumbledore cleared his throat and gained the attention of the portraits. "Now is not the time for this argument." It was one of Phineas's favorites. One more reason why he only grudgingly listened to the present Headmaster. He wasn't sought out for advice, so he gave it at the most inopportune moment.   
  
The entrance of three others interrupted. "Perfect timing. Please have a seat. I believe the issue of winter break." Dumbledore studied the glare Severus shot at the three Gryffindors. Hatred was prominent, but there was something else. Something that he couldn't identify, that alone had no precedent. And that look was mainly focused on Sirius Black. But it was the look of absolute hatred on Harry's face that shook the Headmaster to his old bones. The boy had learned something concerning the Potions Professor. And it wasn't hard to guess what.  
  
But it was Remus who understood the solution of the issue before it was spoken. And he was the only one who hadn't voiced angered on the fact that they were going to spend Christmas at Snape's mansion. Since Severus's arguments had already been shot down, he remained standing in intense fury.  
  
"Sirius, it is the safest place for all of you. Most especially you and Harry."  
  
It was Severus's new objection startled everyone. "Why can they not go to Black's home? Grimmauld Place?" And by Sirius's expression, he was surprised to be agreeing with his bitter enemy.  
  
"It is currently under high traffic and is a dangerous target for both the Ministry and Voldemort. Even with the special precautions, there are people who cannot be trusted who know it exists and where it is. Ciara Aloysius has none of those problems."  
  
"Except that I refuse."  
  
"I have already decided this. You are required to leave the school and I refuse to put any of you in a more dangerous situation when I can avoid it." Severus clinched his jaw as a response. "There is another issue I wish to discuss concerning Harry's link with Voldemort." The others, sensing the closure of the first matter, quieted. "Sybil came to me a few days ago, saying she had been discussing a possible way for Harry to control the link on his own. It seems both Sybil and Irvan agree that Occlumency holds promise. I agree with this possibility, therefore I've asked Severus to begin teaching Harry Occlumency over the break. Provided of course one of you is present."  
  
Severus had not agreed readily to this. They had had a spectacular argument when Dumbledore and Irvan brought it to Severus's attention. Smartly Irvan had remained aloof once he mentioned the idea. Only when directly asked did Irvan reveal his motivation for having Harry learn Occlumency. Once Harry becomes self-sufficient the vampire would be able to finally be not needed and could live the way he wanted. Of course the vampire knew that would be impossible, but he tried.  
  
"Will Occlumency do the same as Irvan's interference?" Remus asked reasonably. The werewolf had always been logical.  
  
"It should. Harry, it will take a great deal of studying to master Occlumency." Harry nodded. "Very good. Now, Severus will have a port key ready tomorrow afternoon once the rest of the students have left for the train. Any further questions?" When none were forthcoming. Dumbledore dismissed Severus so he could learn what Sirius had confided to his godson. He speculated it was that incident that caused the base of their arguments against Snape.  
  
"Is it safe to assume, Harry, that you know from Sirius what occurred the night Professor Snape returned?" Sirius looked sheepish. Remus embarrassed. And Harry was still radiated hatred. Dumbledore had to quell that emotion or the stay at Ciara Aloysius would be unbearable. "You do understand that justice in this matter must done quietly. I have not forgotten that incident. Nor have I dealt with this lightly. I must ask you both not to seek revenge, for this was not premeditated nor out of hatred."  
  
"So we're just going to spend a couple of weeks with him as if none of this happened? Who's to say he won't snap again?"  
  
"After that first night, I have helped him rebuild what he hid from himself. I am sure he no longer has hastily constructed barriers that would cause damage." Dumbledore looked over his half moon glasses at Sirius. The framed convict was now quivering in rage, but did well to contain it. If this was how Sirius reacted to an attempted on his life, how much more extreme would the reaction be once he learned of his captivity and potential use? "I do realize how difficult this is for you. However, I still have need him."  
  
"We understand, Professor," Remus answered. "And I'm sure we can handle the short time until the school's next term."  
  
"I believe you will be able to, Remus. I also believe Sirius and Harry will be able to once the two of you can temporary set aside your hatred. I can assure you Severus is in no position to cause harm," he said it with such in conviction, none of them were eager to bring up another objection.  
  
"Now, you will be able to fire me whenever you need. Either myself or Minerva. You will not be isolated there by any means. Not to mention owls. I wish you a Happy Christmas and an enjoyable New Year."  
  
His Gryffindors filed out of the circular office in a very subdued mode. They would survive. It wouldn't be entirely enjoyable, but it would be safe. He couldn't send them to 12 Grimmauld Place, not with the possibility of a hidden informant. Just after Arabella's death, he had set Moody on investigating who it could be. The former Auror suspected the person to have unlimited access to Grimmauld Place. Putting Sirius and Harry there would be potentially placing them in Voldemort's hands. And he was unable to tell them the true reason until they had the counter curse.  
  
He hoped Severus found a way soon. He disliked keeping them in the dark concerning their own fates.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
Harry woke that morning with a sense of dread. He had told Hermione and Ron where he was staying and got their sympathy and promises of sending a good Christmas to him. He felt better with their assurances that he'll be with Remus and Sirius and those two would not let Snape hassle him.  
  
He walked with them to the Great Hall where they had to separate. Ron and Hermione to the Hogwarts Express to go home to their respected families. And Harry to wait in the Hall for Remus and Snuffles and eventually Snape with the port key.  
  
"Hello, Harry. You're quite early."  
  
"Professor Lupin. I thought you would take longer. Where's Snuffles?"  
  
"He's coming. He was being picky about what to bring. Thought I'd come and keep you company. Exploding Snap?"  
  
"Sounds like a plan." So he spent the rest of the morning playing cards. Snuffles came up when the House Elves gave them a makeshift lunch. They were still waiting for Snape. Evan had taken residence on his shoulder, watching the game, enthralled. He had made a comment on that he had never seen this particular game, asking Harry for the rules as they went along.  
  
"Black, it will be easier for the port key to work if you were a man," Snape sneered as he entered, carrying a larger metal ring.  
  
"That's a lovely greeting," Sirius snapped, transforming.  
  
"Just take the port key," he said jerking his arm out for the three of them to touch the ring. Oddly he recalled, from the book Hermione showed him, that metals could retain a magical memory for the destination if used multiple times. He bet Snape use that ring whenever he wanted to return to his home.  
  
Feeling that familiar tug at the navel brought back ill memories of Cedric and the Triwizard's Tournament. But he wasn't terrified now that he knew how port keys were created. And if Snape created it and was going to use it, then they were all going to end up in the same place. While he didn't trust Snape, he did know, however tenuous, that Snape would not risk Dumbledore's wrath by taking all of them to Voldemort.  
  
He landed facing a dense forest. He released the port key leaving it for another to take care of, and turned around, exploring his new location. And found himself just shy of the doorstep of a huge ivy dominated stone structure. It was a castle, likely built during the medieval era, but obviously had earlier origins and many later alterations and additions.  
  
As any wizard building much of the structure was sustained by magic, but what surprised Harry was how muggle it all looked. Studying the make of the castle he discovered it to be made of normal stone and mortar.  
  
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AN: and the fun begins. Let me know what you think. 


	26. Chapter 26

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Chapter 26  
  
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Magnificent might not describe the castle looming above them, but it was impressive. Stone steps marching up to grandiose carved doors. At first guess there seemed to be three stories, not including the towers that rose above the main structure. The entry level sat on an exposed basement, which held no ornaments but was crafted of high quality granite. Above the basement the ornaments decorating the outer face consisted of earth bound gargoyles and abstract patterns mimicking the doors.  
  
Snape lead the way to the main entrance, denying Harry the opportunity to get a better look at the carvings above the door. He stopped at the prominent gargoyle guarding the right side of the door. Its lesser twin took up residence on the left, eyes keeping an eternal watch on the yard. while the larger turn slightly towards the landing. Its body seemed to be an elongated and deformed human like the devils out of hell. Its face resembled nothing human nor animal, a certified demon, mouth agape somewhere between ready to devour a man and a yawn.  
  
And that was where Snape put his hand, directly on the stone tongue. Harry thought if he looked close enough he saw a ripple in the doors. "You'll need to have the wards recognize you before you enter." Snape sounded more annoyed than usual, staining to keep a civil tone. "To do so, you'll need to put your right hand in his mouth."  
  
"So what's that thing's other proposes? Biting the hand off your enemies?" Sirius jibbed with a wild grin, as if that was the most ridiculous thing in the world. Harry wouldn't put it past Snape or his family.  
  
"Something like that," he sneered, causing Sirius to look twice at the creature guarding the wards. As Sirius hesitated, Remus bravely took on the stone statue, calmly placing his hand in the thing's mouth and waited. For what? Harry didn't know. But he did shout in surprise as the mouth closed around his favorite Professor's hand.  
  
Remus sent him a reassuring smile before directing questions to their host. "Haven't seen one of these before," the werewolf said. "Read about them, but they went out of popularity almost as soon as they entered. How long have you had him?"  
  
Snape glared for a moment and answered stiffly, "The Early Renaissance." Remus nodded as if expecting that answer. The mouth open and he took back his hand whole.  
  
"One of the originals? I'm impressed."  
  
"That is not the intention."  
  
Remus shrugged and turned towards them. "Well, who's next?" Harry looked to Sirius, who had just turned his gaze to Harry. The strange glitter in his eyes revealed everything. Neither one of them trusted Snape enough to actually test his seemingly "good will" as dictated by Dumbledore.  
  
"Apparently, Gryffindor courage is nothing more than unsupported and weightless boast," came the aristocratic, demeaning drawl. Snape was sneering at them in a vicious manner. It only fueled Harry's distrust and rage at being indirectly called a coward. How dare he! He stepped towards the gargoyle only to have Sirius beat him. Apparently his godfather was more determined than himself to prove Snape wrong. Harry caught a slight hint of worry when the mouth closed around his hand.  
  
The keying in of Sirius seemed to take twice as long as for Remus. Not to mention the increasing panic bubbling to the surface of Sirius's visage. It was completely clear that he expected his hand to be hewn off as painfully as possible. When it finally released Sirius's appendage, he was glaring murder at both the statue and Snape.  
  
Then it was his turn. Still anxious over Snape's pseudo-warning, Harry hesitantly put his wand hand between the jaws. It closed. The stone teeth felt as solid as they looked, but the tongue. The tongue felt soft and warm. Not wet like the real muscle, but it did not feel like granite. He assumed it was the magic imbued in the thing, but the sense that the creature was truly alive lurked in the back of his brain. And that was when he felt the vibrations. Just before the jaws snapped open.  
  
Harry felt a hand steady him as he jerked away in surprise. "Wasn't as bad as we thought, was it?" Sirius commented with his conspiratorial grin. "I'm just glad Snape didn't see either of us. That thing was banned for a reason, and you can bet that is exactly why Snape still has it."  
  
"What is it exactly?"  
  
"A private ward guardian. Just after they were invented, they were banned. It was determined that no private wizard should be allowed to maim trespassers. And in some instances kill. My mother always wanted one. And my father would have loved to have had one too. He just didn't publicly admit to it like my mother."  
  
"You mean, that thing really could bite my hand off?"  
  
"You bet. I didn't really believe it at first either. I thought it was just a saying. Proved me wrong."  
  
"Sirius! Harry! Aren't you coming inside?" Sirius glanced up as Remus called from the door.  
  
"Think we'd better enter. Wouldn't like to be out here at night." Harry followed with complete agreement. Who knew what those monsters could do unsupervised.  
  
If he thought the doors were huge, the entry hall was larger. Much larger. Even after the grander of Hogwarts, this was still more than he thought a private home could ever achieve. Twelve foot arches. What had to be over one hundred candle candelabra wrought in gold, casting a brilliant, magical glow across the room, illuminating the Ancient Roman mosaic spread across the floor. The picture seemed to be a man and a woman reaching for one another, cobras encircling their arms also stretching towards its opposite. It was well done, but Harry missed why it would be at the main doors.  
  
As he marveled at the artwork, he missed the arrival of a House-elf.  
  
"Master Severus has guests?" The petite elf was dressed in a pristine white cloth, whether it was a pillow case are another sort of cloth Harry couldn't tell because it was worn too well to be determined.  
  
"Yes," Snape snapped rudely, but the elf paid no attention to the tone and waited for the master of the house to give instructions. "Have the guest wing prepared for three rooms. And dinner at seven. Once the rooms are finish, Totti, you are to find me."  
  
"Would Master Severus like his room prepared as well?" Totti asked. It struck him as odd at how formal and well spoken the elf sounded. Not at all like Dobby.  
  
"Just do what needs to be done."  
  
"Yes sir." And the House-elf disappeared.  
  
That was when Snape turned to face them. Unprepared for that intense gaze, Harry looked everywhere else and noticed that his luggage was missing. "I will assume you'll want to know where you will be staying." It sounded forced. As if under duress. "With the House-elves busy, I fear that it left to me. Better for me to show you where you are allowed to be than have Totti take you where you ask." Turning sharply, the sour Professor stalked past the grand arch into the adjoining room.  
  
"So this is Ciara Aloysius," Sirius whistled. "What my mother would have given to seen this place. She never spoke of it other than a myth."  
  
"Which is precisely how it is supposed to be spoken of." The sharp reply shocked Sirius out of his daydream. "Your mother could only dream of what your family might have been had they had enough foresight to do the same. As it is, your foolish ancestors failed to take advantage of the times."  
  
"I take offense to that!" It was a new voice. One they had not heard before.   
  
"To what Phineas? To being foolish or being Black's ancestor?" Snape spoke to a portrait of a sly old man, dressed in Slytheirn green and silver. Black hair adorned his head under the wizard's hat and the goatee on his chin. The brass nameplate read Phineas Nigellus.  
  
"I would say both, but being related to that worthless great-great-grandson of mine is the worse of the two. And it is about time for you to have arrived. I was wondering if you had destroyed this portrait."  
  
"I should have. Why are you in the formal sitting room? I had you moved to the Headmasters' Library."  
  
"The other portraits complained. So Totti moved the frame. But with you here, it would be a good idea to have a direct, untapped line to Dumbledore's office."  
  
Harry whispered to Sirius as this exchange took place, "You're related to him?"  
  
"Yeah. My great-great-grandfather. Remind me to tell you about my family sometime. It's not something I can say I'm proud of, but it is amusing nonetheless."  
  
"Don't listen to him, boy. You won't get a straight tale out of him. He's never done anything to be proud of, so being amused by those who have is idiotic."  
  
"Oh, you're just angry I didn't follow in my brother's footsteps. Just like mother. Look at where that lead him. He's six feet under, while I'm here arguing with you."  
  
"The wrong son, if you ask me," Phineas muttered. "And where do you think you are going?"  
  
"I have better things to do than stand here and listen to you. The sooner this is done, the sooner I can get back to more important things." With that Snape billowed out of the room and on to the next. They had to follow quickly, not to get too lost.  
  
The room they entered was more impressive than the formal parlor. The decorations spoke for themselves. It was a two story library. And seemed to take up most of the side of the house. Over the large fireplace, hung a stiff portrait of a young woman. She didn't move as fluidly as Phineas had, nor as naturally as most of the paintings Harry had seen in Hogwarts. Reading the nameplate explained everything. Rowena Ravenclaw. It must have been done when the art of crafting moving pictures first began.  
  
"The main library, otherwise known as Ravenclaw's Library."  
  
"Severus, as pleasant as usual," said the portrait. Harry had to listen closely to the voice. He could have sworn there were two voices. "Who are your guests?"  
  
"Lupin, Black, Potter," Snape curtly waved to them in turn.  
  
"Are they staying long?" This time Harry was certain he heard two distinct languages. One was English as he understood it, though slightly more formal than he was use to. The other was completely foreign.  
  
"Until the term begins." Snape definitely tolerated Ravenclaw's picture better than Phineas's. The man didn't do so pleasantly, but it seemed ingrained. He wasn't being outwardly rude as per normal, surprising everyone present, except Ravenclaw.  
  
"Wonderful." Stiffly the dark haired woman turned to the others in her room. "I look forward to talking with you at greater lengths," she smiled. Harry wondered if this was an accurate portrayal of Rowena Ravenclaw, if so she was an enjoyable personality that should not be stuffed away in some forgotten mansion. Maybe there were other portraits of hers elsewhere in the world. They didn't have any time to reply as Snape swept out of the library back into the hall and on to another corridor. "Don't mind Severus too much," she said by way of an apology as they left. "He doesn't receive much opportunity to entertain guests."  
  
"I think she completely missed his absolute disgust as he introduced us," Sirius whispered to Remus, careful to not be overheard. The three of them couldn't control the snickers though. Snape just glared bloody murder and gestured for another doorway to open.  
  
"Cicero's Keep." Without any interrupting portraits, Harry finally got a good look at the room. It was the most casual room shown to them. Overstuffed furniture, a welcoming hearth, a scattering of books, a chess set waiting for the next turn, bay windows facing east. At one time the room would have been used as a morning room, taking advantage of the incoming light.  
  
"Who's Cicero?" Remus asked politely. Harry didn't know why he bothered. Snape certainly wasn't going out of his way to be civil to them.  
  
"Some uncle," was all they got from Snape. Abruptly they were lead down another corridor. "Cillian Cavan." The double doors opened to reveal a gigantic open area, whose obvious purpose was dueling. Muggle weaponry graced one wall, residing next more magical weapons. Most of which Harry could not identify. But he knew the sabers and foils from lances and clubs, not that he knew how to use them. "This will be where Occlumency lessons will take place."  
  
Harry nodded dumbfounded. Snape was not speaking directly to him, but he felt as though he should acknowledge. Why would they need a room this size for Occlumency? He had better inquire that of Remus. Snape walked directly opposite of the doors to another set which opened without touch or words. Sneaking a peek inside, Harry noticed that it was filled with Muggle games from a billiard table to a wall of board-games. Interlaced between those were games that had obvious magical pictures.  
  
"I didn't know you had a toy store," that was Sirius, speaking identical thoughts from Harry's mind.  
  
"Take it up with my great-grandfather," Snape spat. "Though I wouldn't be surprised if there was a chew-toy in there for you."  
  
His godfather growled, but Remus quietly told him that this was not the time nor the place. And thankfully any future brawl was interrupted by Totti, the House-elf.  
  
"Master Severus, the guest wing is prepared."  
  
"Finally. At seven you will see to it that they," a harsh jerk of the hand in their direction, "make it to the family dinning room." Using that as Totti's dismissal, Snape focused his attention on his forced guests. "Come."  
  
And they were on the move, again. This time up a grand staircase. "Severus, what part of the castle did you show us?" Remus asked. Harry guessed it was the need to keep polite conversation going if only to avoid the awkward silences.  
  
"The castle proper. You are to go nowhere other than that level of the castle proper and the guest wing." So much for polite conversation.  
  
"And way is that?"  
  
"I do not want you here. And keeping you detained in the castle proper will not require me to remove anymore wards than I must." After several long moments of silence, they arrived at a narrow corridor, one side lined with doors and the other with windows. Past door number one, past door number two, and stopped at door number three. "Black." Walk up to the second door. "Potter." Up to the first. "Lupin. Good day." And Snape promptly disappeared the way they came.  
  
"Pleasant chap, isn't he?" Sirius commented once he was sure the overgrown bat was out of ear shot. "The quant tour of a legendary house. Even a small history lesson on it. I think I'll as more at dinner. What do you think, Remus?"  
  
"Don't irritate him, Sirius. It's bad enough Dumbledore forced us on him. You don't need to add to it."  
  
"I wasn't planing on doing that. Just some questions regarding this place."  
  
"I would save that for a portrait. I doubt if our host would be willing to cooperate. But I am curious as to what you know about this place."  
  
"Oh, you know. The usual."  
  
"No, I'm afraid I don't. I've never heard of this place before Dumbledore mentioned it."  
  
"Thought everyone knew the legend. Ciara Aloysius was suppose to be a safe haven for Slytherin when he broke away from Hogwarts. But that's not what made it famous. One it is the oldest wizarding home in existence."  
  
"Does that make Snape the oldest wizarding family?" Harry couldn't help but ask.  
  
"The name Snape isn't the longest lasting, but the bloodline is."  
  
"You sound as if this was important to you, Sirius."  
  
"You try forgetting what was drilled into your head since birth, Remus. But anyway, the thing that makes Ciara Aloysius famous to the point of legend was that it was made unplottable hundreds of years before the unplottable charm was invented."  
  
"But doesn't that make the inventor of the unplottable charm that wizard from Snape's family?"  
  
"Not necessarily, Harry. No one can prove that the charm used on Ciara Aloysius is the same as the unplottable patented all those years ago. That was mainly due the lack of belief that Ciara Aloysius existed."  
  
"From what I've gathered, Harry, the only ones who truly wanted Ciara Aloysius to exist were Dark Wizards. Everyone else either didn't care or didn't like the legend and encouraged the disbelief."  
  
"Then why is Sirius so excited about being here?"  
  
"That, Harry, is because I am here at a place my mother would loved to have known was real and now I can return and tell her just out of spite."  
  
"What about Phineas?"  
  
"Oh, him? Don't know why he never mentioned it. Certainly loved to tell stories that revolved around Ciara Aloysius. I'll get him to tell them to you while we're here. But first let's see what traps Snape decided to lay behind these doors."  
  
"You don't really believe that do you, Sirius?" Remus sighed as he went over to his door. "It was the House-elves who prepared the rooms. Do you honestly think they would do something like that?"  
  
"Wouldn't put it past them. You're forgetting about Kreacher. They are capable." Everyone paused. Sirius had told him about the crooked, demented elf that holed itself in the Blacks' place of residence, now the hideout for the Order of the Phoenix. "What do you think? Count to three and open?" They were now standing before their respective doors, nervous. Well, Remus didn't show it. But the mere fact he didn't enter immediately suggested such.  
  
"Open on three or three then open?"  
  
Sirius shared a look with Harry. "On three. One." Pause. And Harry heard an anxious swallow. "Two." This time the pause lasted longer.   
  
"Oh for the love of . . . Three." Remus swung his door and all was silent. Similar actions took place further down the hall. "Wasn't what you expected, is it?" His rooms main colors consisted of autumn reds and golds with perfect complements of greens. There was a sitting area directly after the entrance, framing a small arch leading to the bedroom. Not only was the bed larger than he had ever used before, but also a small private bath. True, he had a private bath in his rooms at Hogwarts, but he had never expected to find the luxury as part of a guest room in the home of the man who hated him the most.  
  
A door stood on the left side of his room. Curious, he went to open it. And found Harry's rooms. And the boy was slowly circling in place stunned by his room. The colors of which were completely Gryffindor. Scarlet and gold. "Do you think Snape even knows what these rooms look like?" he asked quietly with a hint of awe. "I wouldn't be surprised if this room was as large as our common room. Come on, let's see what Sirius thinks of his residence."  
  
"Probably still gawking that it's not a torture chamber." Lupin grinned and open the door connecting Harry's and Sirius's chambers. The animagus was in the same state Remus had found Harry. "Enjoying yourself?" The dominate colors in this room were the deep reds and golds of a sunset.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Just wondering how you are coping with your cell."  
  
"It's not what I expected."  
  
"Think you can spend a couple of weeks here without blowing up?"  
  
"All right, Moony. I won't antagonizing Snape any more than normal."  
  
"I guess that's all I could expect."  
  
"Sirs?" A high pitched voice of a House-elf interrupted. Totti stood in the middle of the room. She seemed more nervous alone in their presence. Not as confident. Perhaps it was just strangers. "Master Severus is wanting you in the dinning room. Please follow me?"  
  
"It's seven already?" Remus asked rhetorically. "Well, we might as well go see what Severus's hospitality has to offer."  
  
"You think we can get Snape to tell us more about this place?"  
  
"Don't push it Sirius. I don't know why you are so interested, but I don't think it would be a good idea. Why don't you ask your great-great-grandfather? Better yet, one of the other portraits. How about Ravenclaw? She seems polite enough to answer."  
  
"Fine. I give. I won't bother Snape."  
  
"Good. Now shall we go?"  
  
_________________________________________________  
  
Nothing forwarding the plot. Sorry. Needed to establish the atmosphere of the house and its occupants. 


	27. Chapter 27

Author's apology: I have finally pulled myself free from that lingering black abyss that has imprisoned me for the past several months. I think it was called Azkaban. First, it was never my intention to disappear off the face of the earth; through strange twists of fate and curses of destiny, and while my muse never left me for a moment, my computer felt the strain of my frustration and promptly exhibited symptoms and failed to respond.   
  
I now humbly present to you the first chapter of "Something" written and sent from Osaka, Japan, my current residence for the next year, so you will forgive the less frequent updates; but as long as my computer cooperates and I have internet access, I will continue to progress on this story.  
  
To those who reviewed in my absence, a great thank you.  
  
And to those who have so diligently waited and faithfully returned, I reward thee with an extra long chapter containing every point of interest reasonably compiled into one selection. _____________________________________________  
  
Chapter 27  
  
____________________________________________  
  
Morning came with unusual abruptness, that is not to say the sun rose than its normal gradual self, or that nature decided upon another course of action. However, there were some occupants woken rudely with a morning symphony complete with a growling and snapping dog and plenty of broken cookery, not to mention other inhuman sounds.  
  
* Go away, you mangy mutt! First it's cats, now it's dogs. What next? The bloody werewolf? *  
  
* Keep it down, Evan. I'm trying to sleep. *  
  
* Trying to sleep, he says. That would be better accommodated if you called off this dog of yours. *  
  
* I don't have a dog, * was the immediate reply. No, Harry did not have a dog: he had a godfather who could transform into a dog. He groaned as he dragged himself from the nice, comfortable, warm bed. * Where are you, Evan? *  
  
* Parlor. *  
  
Sensing urgency, Harry made headway towards the stairs. Now removed from slumber, he was much more animate. He certainly did not want his gift from Hagrid mauled by his godfather. He paused ever so briefly by Remus's room just as the Professor opened the door to see what the racket was all about.  
  
"Harry, what is it?"  
  
"Sirius is attacking Evan. Don't know why," he said rushing past.  
  
Within the parlor, otherwise known as the formal sitting room where Phineas's portrait took residence, Harry discovered a sight oddly reminiscent of earlier in the summer at the Burrow. But instead of a large ginger cat pawing underneath the china cabinet, it was a large black dog. In the interests of keeping both supposed animals alive, he was about to call to his godfather when Remus intervened.  
  
"Sirius! Just what do you think you are doing?"  
  
The Newfoundland ceased his barrage in favor of glancing towards the intruders to his game. The next instant a man stood in place of the canine. "That thing is not a spider," Sirius stated. "I don't know what it is, but it is not natural!"  
  
"We figured that much out, Sirius. It is of magical descendent, of course it is not what we deem natural," Lupin replied calmly.  
  
"I know what magical smells like. And that spider is not a spider in any sense. It doesn't smell right."  
  
"Such eloquence, Black." Their sour host entered, announcing his presence with his most disgusted aristocratic drawl. However, Harry thought he detected amusement which might have become more apparent in the next statement. "I see you found yourself a new chew-toy. However I would prefer if you took your games to less valuable rooms." Harry listened slightly confused, the only time he had ever heard the slightest hint of amusement was when Snape had found a way to get him in trouble, perhaps it applied to Sirius as well.  
  
"That thing is not s spider," Sirius repeated.  
  
"Is that so? Where is it now?"  
  
"Evan's under the cabinet," Harry supplied without knowing why. * You are still there, aren't you? *  
  
* Of course I am. Somebody should put a leash on that animagus. And if that man is going to play this humorously . . . * Evan left the threat hanging.  
  
"Of course it is," Snape said absently as he moved to the fireplace. Ignoring the three sets of disinterested, curious eyes, Snape ignited the hearth, removed black powder from an ornate crystal container and tossed it into the flames. Harry's question was why was the Potion's Professor flooing anyone over such a trivial matter? Then again was it even trivial? Once the merry orange flames changed green, he said, "Hogwarts: Headmaster Dumbledore's office, Password, Iced Mice."  
  
As if the Headmaster was waiting for the firecall, his head popped into existence in Snape's hearth. "Ah, Severus, what brings you here this fine winter morning?"  
  
"It would seem Snuffles," Snape snarled the name, "has stumbled upon something better left anonymous."  
  
"I see. I am sure you can deal with the situation appropriately, though it might be time to inform the others. I must leave this to you. And Happy Christmas to you." With that Dumbledore disappeared from sight, leaving Snape quietly cursing his fate.  
  
"You might as well come out now," he said in the direction of the china cabinet. Harry wondered at the statement even as Evan promptly complied. He didn't have long to stay curious as the spider proved himself to be an animagus. Who just happened to be Irvan. Sirius and Remus remained stunned several moments longer as connections flew.  
  
Then they released the accusations. "You let THAT be that close to Harry!" Sirius rampaged against Snape, while Remus directed his attack towards Irvan.  
  
"THAT was how you were fulfilling your responsibility? Completely irresponsible!"  
  
"It's not as though I had a choice in the matter," Irvan replied calmly, even if slightly unnerved by the werewolf. An action Harry did not fully understand, but would know before the holiday was over.  
  
"If you must know," Snape explained to Sirius without normal constraints on temper. "The entire ordeal was sanctioned by Dumbledore." Soon enough both Marauders ganged up on Snape, once Remus had concluded that Irvan was ignorant of what he wanted to know.  
  
* Idiots. * The voice in his head surprised Harry once again. * You didn't think this strange connection would go away upon transforming, did you? *  
  
* Er. No. It's just, . . . well, I guess I just wasn't expecting it," he finished lamely.  
  
"Irvan!" a new voice broke the hostile atmosphere. "What an unpleasant surprise to find you amongst the living."  
  
"Phineas, such a displeasure meeting you post-mortem. I much preferred you feigning death."  
  
"Merlin knows you belong as dust on the wind."  
  
"I had it straight from Merlin's mouth that he did not care one way or the other about us."  
  
"You know each other?" Snape broke from the still arguing Marauders.  
  
"Quite," Phineas stated tritely.  
  
At Snape's raised eyebrow, Irvan replied, "Ask Sylvester."  
  
"It would appear my great-grandfather was more eccentric than the family gave credit for. Though why are you here, Phineas?"  
  
"Dumbledore thought it necessary for me to carry messages for his precious Order."  
  
"You have my sympathy, but what is it that the headmaster could not have told me a moment ago?"  
  
"It is not from him. It's from that crazed Auror trying to demolish my house." Snape smirk slightly at the oil painting's ravings, but not enough to aggravate the messenger. "He says he will need the first potion tonight and the second two nights from now."  
  
"Doesn't trust me to finish, does he," Snape muttered mincingly. "Tell him they have to go through Dumbledore first." Phineas left without pleasantries and Snape immediately stalked out of the room.  
  
In the confused silence, they all heard Irvan state under his breath, "Wonderful. Abandon me in hostile territory," before he moved to the exit.  
  
"You're not going anywhere," Sirius stopped him physically.  
  
"Honestly, Sirius, don't you think it is too early for this. It's hardly past seven. What were you doing up this early anyway?"  
  
"Exploring. Didn't expect the git to be up. Nor to find that thing," he pointed to the vampire.  
  
"Such an astute observation." Irvan stepped out of Sirius's reach.  
  
"No one asked you."  
  
"Quite. But more to the point. The mere fact that you have no inkling as to how any of this works proves that you do not have the capacity to reconcile the differences brought upon the situation. And considering your inability to comprehend the differences compounded by this situation, it is no wonder you are unable to perceive the current complications correctly."  
  
"Does that even mean anything in English?"  
  
"To put into words your brain can process: You are an inept idiot."  
  
Spell casting supposedly needed time to work. Harry failed to see either man move until the aftermath. His godfather was on the floor supporting his head. And the vampire still stood, but with a nasty gash along his jaw line. "If you will excuse me," Irvan managed politely and glided beyond the reach of the startled spectators.  
  
"Is he all right?" Harry asked standing behind Remus as the Professor looked to his friend.  
  
"Sirius? Oh, he's fine. Just a bump on the head. Nothing serious."  
  
"I'm going to kill that good for nothing, blood sucking leech." Sirius was in excellent physical and mental condition, if he could manage to produce a threat.  
  
"That's not very original," Remus chided.  
  
"I'm not in the mood to be original."  
  
"If that is the case, you might as well wait your turn. I'm claiming first dibs. Now, let's see about breakfast."  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
This was most definitely not the assignment Irvan wanted. He was now playing nursemaid to an adult with the temperament of a child in addition to a child with the temperament of an adult. And frankly he preferred the child. When his prey failed to have congregated in the parlor, he began his search elsewhere, beginning with the library. He had not expected to overhear a discussion about thestrals.  
  
"And why are you doing this, Harry?" his intended target, Sirius Black, asked, oblivious as to why anyone would work over the holiday.  
  
"Professor Grubbyplanks wants us to research a creature we would like to study but can't because of availability."  
  
"But why a thestral? Those things are bad luck."  
  
"Probably because it was one of the few things on the list I've never heard of. Ron didn't know what he was researching when I left and Hermione was going to use her essay on werewolves from third year as a basis for a new essay. Said something about getting the work graded."  
  
"You should have offered to read it, Moony."  
  
"Probably, but I admit I was not thinking about that at the time. You want a book about thestrals, right Harry? If we can find a copy of Tudunk's book, you'll be all set. Severus is bound to have a copy."  
  
"North wall, third shelf from the top."  
  
"Thank you, Rowena." There was silence for several moments. "Ah, here we are. Both editions. I'm surprised Hermione did not lend your her edition."  
  
"She said there was some new information not in the Hogwarts Library. And it is likely she is going to let Ron use it. Wow, ten pages just for thestrals! No wonder you said I'd be set." More silence and Irvan was tempted to walk in to see what Black was doing. It was obvious that the other two were engaged in research, and he did not want his target to get away. "I don't understand this," Harry spoke aloud in hopes of clarification. "It says: a man who has witness the catastrophe that is the permanent loss of the spiritual element which supports the physical entity possesses the capacity of viewing a thestral should an opportunity present itself to the man in question."  
  
"Oh, that's just a poetic way of saying if you see someone die you can see a thestral. Otherwise it's invisible." Well, it seemed the animagus was not completely ignorant.  
  
"Then that means I should be able to," Harry responded thoughtfully.  
  
"Huh? Why?"  
  
"Cedric, remember." The boy sounded too depressed for one his age. "But then shouldn't you be able to see them?"  
  
"A thestral? I guess so, but I don't think I've ever seen one. Where should we go to find them." Black actually sounded interested, almost eager.  
  
"Hagrid told me they pull the horseless carriages," the werewolf supplied.  
  
"Then why can't I see them? I've used those many times this year."  
  
"Haven't the faintest."  
  
Irvan, for the preservation of correct knowledge, decided to make his presence known. "If you read further, it will tell you that it takes time for the psyche to process the disturbance brought upon it caused by the destruction of the harmonious blend of energies presented by a complex, intelligent and rational being."  
  
"Say that again in English."  
  
Without sparing the offender a glance, he rephrased for Harry's benefit; the poor boy looked lost. "In other words, it takes time for a person to comprehend that a death has occurred. There are many factors which complicate matters, all depending on the individual, the situation, and the method of death."  
  
"So why can't Harry see one?"  
  
"It is possible he has seen one without knowing, but since they do pull the carriages, I find that unlikely. Another reason is his unconscious refuses to accept what it has witness, or that it did not recognize it, or even more unlikely, that he sis not view the actual death. Among other smaller factors that would only cause trouble if the circumstances were correct. It is my opinion that the action happened too fast for Harry's mind to understand instantly and it is still working out the details necessary for acceptance."  
  
"So he hasn't accepted."  
  
"No, his unconscious is still working on the finer details of understanding. Harry has accepted, but his unconscious is a few steps behind. Thins is not as simple as yes or nor."  
  
"Then why hasn't Sirius seen one? He witness death twelve years ago."  
  
"As I understand Sirius's position, he was not of the mindset to recognize death for what it was. First of all, did you recognize the dead from the injured when the incident occurred?"  
  
"No."  
  
"And you were not given the time to see who died?"  
  
"No."  
  
"I am certain you were never told the number during your incarceration."  
  
"No, I wasn't."  
  
"And Azkaban is not a location conductive to understanding. And since you spent a great deal of time as a dog, your human psyche did not develop the required understanding. That is because a dog's mind is severely less complex than a man's. In addition, the resulting insanity from Azkaban hindered his process of understanding. While not permanent, its affects last awhile."  
  
"So Sirius can't see them because he wasn't given the required time to understand what he saw."  
  
"In an elementary explanation, yes."  
  
Sirius, now leaning over Harry's shoulder so he could see the text, asked, "So what do they look like anyway?"  
  
The boy turned a few pages to reveal an artist's rendering. "The sketch looks like a winged horse."  
  
"Like a pegasus?"  
  
"Hardly," Irvan answered, lip curled in distaste. To him it was impossible to confuse a pegasus with a thestral. "The only features a thestral shares with Pegasus is a horse like shape and wings. It is a reptile in every other form and function, including being carnivorous." As he finished he noticed the werewolf watching him curiously. It was that man's attention Irvan desperately wanted to avoid. Not just because the man was a werewolf, but also because the man was intelligent enough to make connections Irvan was not ready to reveal.  
  
"What else do you know about thestrals?" Lupin asked.  
  
"The boy is going to learn nothing if he keeps asking me. And is is unlikely quoting me will be considered a reliable source."  
  
"He's right. Professor Grubbyplanks wouldn't accept Irvan the Vampire as a real source."  
  
"No, I don't suppose she would," the werewolf said still looking at Irvan. "But she would accept Herman Tudunk."  
  
"I shall leave you to your research," Irvan comment as he moved to the exit. He would have like to have chatted with Rowena, but not while the mass of Gryffindors graced the room.  
  
"Enjoy yourselves, but I find research tedious."  
  
"You always have. I have yet to see you open a book that did not contain pictures," Lupin gave a halfhearted attempt at banter, though it was obvious that he was more interested in the book. So that let the animagus follow Irvan out the door, without the vampire having to subject the man to subconscious influence. Pressing the mental barrier between himself and Severus, Irvan waited acknowledgment, * They're all yours, * he directed towards the Potions Master. * They are in Rowena's Library, researching. you had best approach them now for I do not know how long I can keep him otherwise engaged. *  
  
* Getting him drunk on cheap liquor ought to take him out of commission. *  
  
* Wonderful. A drunk mutt. *  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
"Do you think it was a good idea to let Sirius follow Irvan?"  
  
"Probably not, but at least we know Irvan won't harm Sirius too badly. But if we don't see either of them by nightfall we should go looking." Remus was not worried for his friend, but he was concerned at the outcome of his and the vampire's discussion. Whatever was discussed could not help them make a peaceful relationship. He and Harry returned to their books. Something the vampire had said had reminded him far too greatly of a passage in Tudunk's book. However, he was interrupted by yet another intruder, on turning he found Snape in the doorway.  
  
"Occlumency lessons in half an hour," he stated bluntly and was on the verge to go as Remus called out to him.  
  
"You expect us to stop what we are doing just to accommodate you?"  
  
"Unlike you I do not have unlimited leisure time. Half an hour warning is plenty of time for you to finish whatever project you have elected to preform. Now unless you would prefer to begin the lessons now, I will meet you in half an hour."  
  
"Now is as good a time as any. What do you think, Harry?"  
  
"Can't find reason to delay." Remus sensed Harry's reluctance, after all who would want to be stuck with Snape voluntarily for an hour. At least he and Harry discussed why these lessons were important, and Harry had understood the reasons, but that was no reason to be pleased about it.  
  
Snape sneered at the answer. "Very well." Harry and Remus followed Snape to the dueling Hall. Remus had not ceased wondering in amazement at the story Sirius related about this Hall. Cillian Cavan was the strongest area within Ciara Alyosius. The wards were so designed to keep destructive spells within the walls, preventing any on the other side of the doors to witness or fall victim to a carelessly thrown spell from the mists of an enraged duel. Thus Cillian Cavan was the safest place to reside should invading forces attempt to breach the castle.  
  
Sirius had also told the legend, passed down through his family through the ages, regarding the reason Ciara Alyosius was made unplottable. According to legend, a band of jealous wizards tried to destroy the building, but the wards were maintained from within Cillian Cavan. No one made it past the first gate, much less the front door. Because, Sirius had told them, the Snape family had not wanted to deal with another assault they found a way to hide their location from everyone To be sure not a soul could undo their wards, they never relinquished the information about their particular charm.  
  
"Shall I assume Lupin has informed you as to what Occlumency is," Severus asked upon entry. Harry nodded uncertainly. Remus had told him everything he knew, but Remus was no longer sure that was everything Harry needed to know. "Then we shall begin."  
  
"Perhaps it would be best to explain it to him, since you are accomplished in the field." It was at least an attempt to get Severus to explain the finer points.  
  
"Would you prefer the task? Then kindly desist. Now, Potter, clear you mind of all thoughts and prepare yourself. One. . . two. . . three. . . Legilimens."  
  
Remus watched in awe. He had never actually seen the spell preformed. He knew Dumbledore used a wordless variation, but visual spell had completely different results. As the white flash consumed Harry, the teenager stood in an almost trance. The traces of struggled formed in the manifestations of concentrated beads of light. When too long a time passed Snape released the spell, causing Harry to collapse with the sudden loss of support from the spell.  
  
"Obviously Lupin did not tell you enough." Severus spared a short accusing glance for the aforementioned wizard. "You are suppose to stop me from seeing your memories. Get up and try again." Harry gave a grim nod and stood. He was facing away from Remus, so the werewolf could not see the teenager's facial expression but imagined it to be determined. He frowned at Snape's method of teaching. There was a slight helpless feeling as he could accomplish nothing by interfering. "Ready. Legilimens."  
  
The same actions took place. This time the signs of struggle clarified and solidified. It took several long moments, but Harry managed to dispel the lingering affects and return it to the caster. Harry still collapsed once the spell diminished, though not as hard as the first. Snape was also affected. He was rubbing his right wrist, his wand hand.  
  
"Did you intend to produce a stinging hex?"  
  
"No."  
  
"I thought not. Again. Wand ready. Legilimens." The spell seemed no stronger than previously, yet Harry managed to have more difficulties. At least that was what Remus thought until the spell was reversed violently. Severus staggered a step back before regaining control and shutting it out. Harry promptly fell from the force. "Enough for today. Tomorrow night at eight we shall see if you remember anything," Snape said abruptly and began a retreat to the door.  
  
"Was that Salvador?" Apparently Harry had not expected to say that aloud. Remus wondered what Severus's father had to do with this situation.  
  
Snape turned sharply on his heel to face Harry. Harshly he said, "That is none of your business."  
  
"He just didn't act the way Madame Pince described him."  
  
Sneering, "That is possibly because he wasn't. Nor is that any of your business." Snape left before anything else could be said.  
  
"What was that about?" Remus questioned as he assisted Harry to his feet.  
  
"That last time I think I saw Snape's memories. And one had a man that looked a lot like Snape yelling at a woman."  
  
"But how do you know about Severus's father?"  
  
"By accident. Hermione wanted to know who S.O.S. was. Found out it's a Snape family tradition to publish underage wizards by the name S.O.S. We think Snape published that potions book, but can't be sure."  
  
"You said something about Pince?"  
  
"Yeah, she said Salvador died while protecting his wife from Aurors. It didn't sound right for him to be abusive to her, if that was true."  
  
"Let's go look through the library again. Perhaps Rowena knows something that will help solve this mystery."  
  
"Isn't it odd to have only found Ravenclaw's portrait? Surely if there's one Founder, there would be the other three?"  
  
"Or at least one or two others. I agree. If what Sirius says is correct, Slytherin should be represented. But it is likely for those to be in another part of the castle."  
  
"You mean places Snape won't let us go to."  
  
"Precisely. Though I'm wondering how you felt about this first Occlumency lesson?"  
  
"If it wasn't with Snape I'd feel better about it."  
  
"I'll second that. He knows what he is doing but doesn't teach very well. It's a good thing Dumbledore requested one other person to be present. I don't want to imagine the tension that would come between the two of you alone."  
  
"Agreed. But why does it have to be Snape? Why not you or Sirius?"  
  
"Because neither I nor Sirius know Occlumency, much less Legilimency. Occlumency is designed to keep out intruders while Legilimency is the spell to directly enter someone's mind. I never heard of either until my seventh year in Defense class. It was one of those lessons where the teacher was not very interested in teaching something no one would ever need to know. In fact he never said a word regarding those spells, they were only mentioned by name in our book. And I am fairly certain Sirius never learned it or his stay in Azkaban might have been easier."  
  
"What about Dumbledore?"  
  
"Extremely busy with the Order and Ministry. I also think he is not as strong in Occlumency as Severus. Stronger in Legilimency, so you might never be able to push him out like you did Severus."  
  
"But I managed to enter Snape's mind."  
  
"Probably because he wasn't paying attention, underestimating you. What was his first thought?"  
  
"Shooting flies."  
  
"Sounds like he was bored."  
  
"Better than mine, I guess."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Better to be bored than humiliated."  
  
"I suppose so. Though I can safely say Severus had his share of humiliation."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I'm not proud to say this, but he was the most common target of your father's and Sirius's pranks. I don't think it helped that Severus became friends with Sirius's older brother, Regulus, despite the two year difference. Come to think of it, Severus had no friends his age or younger. They were all much older than him."  
  
"Wasn't he your age?"  
  
"Either that or just a bit younger. I actually think he was a bit younger. He was always smaller than the rest of us until seventh year."  
  
"Oh."  
  
* * * * * * *   
  
This was intolerable. A mere boy with no training should not have any ability in interrupting a person's mind. Especially not his mind. Granted Severus had expected Potter to be able to block foreign minds sooner than most, but not a full blown reversion of that act. If he must, he would admit that the boy surprised him, nothing more than that.  
  
"Never again."  
  
"Now what Irvan?" Just what he needed. A vampire who did not believe in the sympathetic ear.  
  
The vampire looked over his shoulder as he closed the laboratory door. In the strange light cast by several small fires, Irvan's expression would be akin to barely suppressed frustration. "Oh. I see you enjoyed your little encounter as well."  
  
Without sparing a glance, Severus tartly told the man, "Unless you have suddenly turned blind, I am currently busy."  
  
"Far be it from me to interrupt." Irvan then promptly took a seat directly across from Severus's workbench.  
  
"Very well." Glancing from his cauldron, Severus noted the peculiar expression drawn uncharacteristically on the vampire's features. "What was it that the mutt said to get you all flustered?"  
  
"I do not get flustered!" Severus only spared a withering glare of impatience. "I doubt Sirius understood the importance of what he said, but I do not doubt that the statement germinated from memories gleaned from the encounter with yourself and Voldemort."  
  
"Speak plainly. Is he or is he not recovering his memories?"  
  
"No. Not actual memories, but impressions that he is not understanding. He related to me how his dreams of Azkaban were becoming more violent and involving you of all people."  
  
"And he told you all this?" he asked skeptically.  
  
"He was quite drunk at the time."  
  
"Which I am sure you assisted."  
  
"It is easier to read a man when he is slightly intoxicated," Irvan stated without second thoughts. "However, it was not his dreams that worry me. During this time there was a dramatic change in his temperament. For a moment I thought I felt the presence of Voldemort. Right before he decided to smash my face in," the vampire finished sulkily.  
  
"Be glad that was all he did," he said seriously, for it sounded as if the Dark Lord was beginning to test his pet project, likely not knowing where it was located. "If this is to continue without having found a counter curse, you are going to have to watch both Potter and Black. Mostly Black, especially when he is alone with Potter."  
  
"No. I will not . . ."  
  
"You are more suited to unnoticed spying. And it has already been determined that the werewolf cannot sense you in animagus form."  
  
"But Black can."  
  
"Use your other form. If he cannot find you then you have nothing to fear."  
  
"There is no arguing with you, is there? You've planned this out neatly in that mind of yours."  
  
"Get out."  
  
"You have work to do. Not to mention finding a suitable explanation for Dumbledore."  
  
"Correct," he snarled. "And that is not getting done with you here. Now get out."  
  
"Of course, and leave you to your misery. I would suggest informing both the werewolf and the boy of the animagus's condition. I suspect the Headmaster would begin to gain a similar opinion once you fail to produce a counter curse."  
  
"You are of no help. Now get out." Unfortunately, the vampire was right, once again. Black would know about his involvement once the memories broke through, sooner or later. Severus preferred it to be later, after a counter curse was discovered or created. But it did not appear as though the potions he created were having an affect. Not immediate enough, but still working.   
  
At this rate Black's memories of that week would return in several years. That would have been the light at the end of the tunnel, except for the small disaster that would occur should Black escape notice. In that event, Irvan's favorite pessimistic parable came true, "The light you see at the end of the tunnel, is the head-lantern of the fast approaching train." Severus really should stop listening to the vampire. He was pessimistic enough and had yet to encounter a single pleasant surprise. Everything had gone from bad to worse.  
  
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	28. Chapter 28

AN: Okay, I have rewritten the outline for the remaining chapters and lucky for you the story will be a bit longer than I had first thought. Also it will be more interesting. And as I answer some long standing questions I bet I will provide avenues for more queries.  
  
Haven't come up with any more dramatic twists yet. Still I very much hope you are enjoying the story. As you can see I am no longer suffering from the intense desire to write in the most elaborate way possible.  
  
I do hope you tell me if I go over the top with an upcoming scene. I would hate to have Sirius be out of character. (In a fit of frustration the author added the following) Let's omit a few words: I ... hate ... Sirius ... .  
  
Last I would like to thank the person who pointed out that Regulus was Sirius's younger brother. I missed that while reading OotP and never took the time to go to the HP Lexicon. I apologize for the mistake. It has been fixed. It is not a big point, just that Severus and Regulus were friends of a sort and Sirius wasn't too keen about either of them. Again thank you.  
  
Ok, now is the last, I have to say that I have also noticed that I have a horrible tendency to omit important little words like "not." I am in the process of rereading and fixing those mistakes. The corrections will be posted when all the chapters have been read. Thank you for pointing it out.  
  
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Chapter 28  
  
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"I already told you I don't care what Snape thinks. It's Christmas and I think we should decorate."  
  
"I'm sure that will go over will," the vampire stated dryly from his corner of the room.  
  
"What are you doing in here anyway?"  
  
"As unpleasant as I find the current company, you are far more entertaining than Snape."  
  
"Wonderful. The highlight of my day, being the entertainment of a vampire."  
  
"It could be worse, Sirius. You could be the entertainment of Severus."  
  
"Lovely Moony. Remind me not to buy you a Christmas present."  
  
"It's almost seven," Remus continued in an effort to be conciliatory, "and for the hope of a civil conversation, I think I'll do the actual asking."  
  
Sirius screwed his face up in distaste. "The one time we're free of the vampire is the one time we have to deal with Snape."  
  
"Oh, don't think you are going to be rid of me that easily. I fully indent on watching this spectacle unfold.  
  
"Just what was it the two of you discussed while Harry and I were with Severus?"  
  
"That 's a very good question," Irvan responded as he refilled his glass with whatever it was he drank. "I am still attempting to understand half of what came out of his mouth. Most especially what he said before he resorted to a fist fight."  
  
"Sirius!" The man address had the nerve to appear affronted. Irvan. lounging near the near the hearth, had the audacity to laugh quietly as though sharing a solemn joke.  
  
"Do relax, Remus. To his credit he was provoked. Even if he did not stand on his own volition to finish the fight."  
  
"It would have lasted longer if you hadn't spiked the drinks."  
  
"You cannot blame me, I drank nothing from that decanter, nor did I call up for the drink. Your fault lies in not being able to hold your own drink."  
  
"So the two of you became the best of friends," Remus commented upon watching the banter. He had not expected the vampire to so easily accommodate himself to their humors. In fact after that strange encounter the other morning, he had expected Irvan to hide away for awhile, even though the vampire had not shown much fear compared to the moment he had encountered it just after it met with Trelawney.  
  
Now here was that very same vampire being more of a host than Severus. But, Severus was as antisocial as a Professor could be. Remus had not completely believed all the writings on vampires during his course of study, but currently Irvan was disputing many of the points he had thought viable. Such as conducting himself in a polite and gentlemanly manner as opposed to the more domineering persona Remus had believed. Irvan appeared to be enjoying his role as host despite the company he was faced to endure.  
  
"If you are trying to insult me, Moony, then you have succeeded. Besides, all that happened yesterday. You are far behind in your interrogation. Now, where's Harry?"  
  
"Could you go further off topic?" Remus suggested.   
  
"I suppose he could always bring up Hogwarts," Irvan added casually. "But I believe I saw him in Rowena's Library."   
  
"I'm going to go get him. It's dinner time and I'm hungry." Remus watched his friend leave the room. Something seemed strange about his reaction. Irvan's choice of actions was just as mystifying.  
  
"Shall we? I'm certain you don't want to miss the show." Irvan then headed off in the direction of the library, following Sirius. Something was off about that behavior. But Remus could place why the action felt so strange.  
  
Instead of following the vampire, he finds his way to the dinning room to wait for the remaining occupants of the house.  
  
'Professor Lupin?" It was the only House-elf ever seen out of the kitchens. Remus knew there were two others aside from Totti, but he had never seen them, and if they were anything like Totti, they would be extremely skittish around guests.  
  
"Hello, Totti. I understand that dinner will be served shortly." The House-elves of Hogwarts would have been bursting with pride at that comment; this one however, ducked her head politely and disappeared, presumable to the kitchens. Not long after Sirius, Harry, and Irvan arrived. Sirius and Irvan seemed to be in the mist of an argument. Somehow, Remus was not surprised.  
  
"Unless you can prove me wrong," the vampire was saying in response to some unheard attack, "there is no point in continuing this useless conversation, despite the enjoyment you seem to take in hearing your own voice."  
  
"Master Irvan is staying?" Totti had reappeared to set the drinks.  
  
"Yes." The vampire's response was sharp but not yet rude. The elf seem to take it much easier than his own attempts at pleasant conversation. Remus marveled at how many contrasts one man could hold. He went from a congenial host to a quick tempered antagonist in mere seconds. Perhaps the changes in attitude were the precursor to a vampire's bloodlust. As he thought about it, Irvan had been more pleasant while he was drinking that mysterious drink of his. Perhaps the heavily masked smell emanating from the drink was blood.  
  
Remus happened to be watching the doorway, while Harry and Sirius settled into their seats, as Snape entered. After a quick glance around the dinning room, the Potions Master frowned. "You are becoming bothersome."  
  
Irvan glanced up from where he had been staring a hole in the floor, and responded sourly, "A pleasure to see you too, Severus."  
  
And then there was always these confrontations between the dark wizard and the vampire. Every word they spoke to the other dripped in distain, as if the other was not worth his time. Yet for some inexplicable reason they remained on reasonable terms.  
  
"Why, pray tell, are you here?"  
  
"They," a gesture towards the only Gryffindors in the room, "came up with an interesting idea. I just wanted to view the aftermath. Afterwards I will take leave for a few hours."  
  
"No, afterwards you will accompany us to Cavan."  
  
"I assure you that is completely unnecessary." Irvan regarded Snape darkly, his facial expression rather blank, but voice betraying annoyance. "It was your requirement to teach the boy. I was not functioned into the equation."  
  
"Considering it was your idea, I believe you should also be present. And if Potter actually succeeds in blocking a spell, he should be tested against a different form."  
  
Remus glanced at Harry. His friend's son had a strange glower on his face at being spoken about as though he were not there. Apparently he was oblivious to the veiled compliment Severus was giving him. If he was demanding the vampire's present for that reason, Harry must be nearer to accomplishing that task than Severus wanted to admit. Or he could just want Irvan's present when faced with Sirius in addition to the other two Gryffindors.  
  
Irvan refused to comment and picked up the goblet Totti placed in front of him.  
  
Having apparently settled his argument, Snape sat to begin the meal. As had become typical, the first many moments were conducted in tense silence, followed by conversation between Sirius and Harry with Remus entering at odd points.  
  
At the head of the table sat, predictably, Snape. To his immediate right sat Irvan. Further down to Remus's left sat Sirius and Harry across from him. They were so situated to avoid the most violent outbursts.  
  
Remus decided to hold off asking permission to decorate until later in the meal, once Severus had relaxed enough to warrant it. And while Severus was ignoring their presence, Remus focused on what the vampire was drinking. Isolating the smell from the myriad of others proved less difficult than expected. Or perhaps it was because the drink was stronger. But there was no doubt that now the vampire was drinking blood, without diluting it. So perhaps the volatile mood was a result of a lack of nutrition. But as long as the vampire did not attack any of them, Remus wouldn't bother.  
  
"So, Harry, have you been thinking about what you want for Christmas?" Sirius asked, giving Remus a meaningful glance.  
  
"Well, not really."  
  
"Yeah, it's hard to think about Christmas without all the decorations or even a tree. Don't you agree Remus?" Very subtle, Sirius. Snape still appeared to be ignoring them.  
  
"Modern civilization has ruined a completely useful and meaningful celebration."  
  
"No one asked you, Irvan."  
  
Irvan looked like he could care less what Sirius had to say and continued. "The only reason Christmas is celebrated as it is was a conciliatory gesture of the old Christians who were still pagan at hear. At one time the day was actually used to celebrate Christ's birth, but it has now become nothing more than a commercial holiday with little meaning other than the giving and receiving of ..."  
  
"Irvan, shut up." Snape surprised them by stating the objection. Irvan was on the verge of adding to his rant when Severus turned to Sirius. "And your pathetic attempt to uncharacteristically gain permission to decorate for the season has failed. Now, if you are finished, we can get on with Potter's lesson." Snape's sneer was in full force as he directed the comment to Sirius.  
  
"It's just one stupid room, Snape! And gods forbid though actually enter it! But I refuse to spend Christmas locked up in some hellhole with someone who has difficulty understanding what families are suppose to do on this holiday."  
  
"I will admit to confusion. Was he referring to you are me?" The vampire turned slightly to regard Severus.  
  
"I'll refer to you if you are going to take this as a joke, you disgusting overgrown leech."  
  
"I have heard that insult far too often for it to have any affect. Though I am surprise you could not find more creative terms, Sirius. But then again that might only be possible when you are a roaring drunk."  
  
"Why you!"  
  
"SILENCE!"  
  
The demand had an immediate effect. Remus noted that Irvan actually displayed outward signs of shock and outrage. Sirius managed to quickly cover his astonishment at the sudden outburst. Harry, who Remus knew had seen such rage, still looked shocked and slightly appalled. He could not place why the second emotion was shown, but he knew it was not for any professional respect.  
  
"Your pathetic request has been denied. I will meet you in fifteen minutes in Cillian Cavan." He was just about to stalk out of the room when suddenly he turned sharply and settled a glare on the vampire. "Do you have something to say," he dared.  
  
Nonplused, Irvan sipped from his goblet and answered, "As a matter of fact I do. You hardly ever enter Cicero's Keep, why deny them the opportunity"  
  
"This is highly uncharacteristic of you. What has you changing your sentiments?"  
  
Irvan's features darken. "Let's just say I have grown attached to the burning of the yule log." A staring contest erupted and Remus was certain other communication was in progress but there was not way of learning what was said.  
  
"Fine. Take the Keep. I don't want to see anything outside that room." Snape swept out of the room.  
  
"You didn't have to," Remus said after a moment as Irvan stood to leave.   
  
The vampire turned slightly to view the three remaining. "Do not think I did that for your sakes," he muttered. "It will cause less trouble should Severus know what you are doing, than if you do so without his knowledge. I, for one, would prefer a quiet household for the season. I will remind you that such ornamentation should remain within the Keep and no where else. He is in a bad enough mood as it is. Now I believe we have somewhere to be." And he left.  
  
"Wonder what's wrong with him?"  
  
"Think is has something to do with Snape not letting he leave the building."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Well, er, he told me."  
  
"He told you? When?"  
  
Harry paused uncomfortable as he sorted out what he was going to say. "Well, he ... we share some kind of connection. I think ever since he started helping with the visions."  
  
Sirius for once never said a word.  
  
"Come one, we'll be late." Remus always did know how to change a topic.  
  
Harry wasn't looking forward to this encounter. For one thing it was with Snape. The only consolation was that Sirius and Remus both would be there. And Sirius would interfere should Snape do something odd. He had talked with Remus about their last lesson. It seemed he had gone beyond what Occluemency called for when he had viewed Snape's memories. So supposedly he should be able to adjust what he was doing to produce the actual effects of an Occlumens.  
  
As important as that was, he still wasn't satisfied with what he had found out about Snape's father. Virtually nothing. Nor had he learned who the man was that he saw. Curiosity was getting the better of him.  
  
"Your late," Snape startled him out of his thoughts. Harry saw Irvan standing to the side, still with his goblet. "Well, get ready. Legilimens"  
  
Abruptly Harry was viewing snapshots of his own memories. Dudley and his Smelting Stick. Malfoy and his goons, Crabbe and Goyle. He had done this before, but always with a really embarrassing memory. The goal was to get the same result whenever he wanted. That was what Remus had told him.  
  
He shook his head. He was on the floor with no recollection of how he got there. At least he thought he was successful.  
  
"-est explain what you did, Snape," he heard his godfather snapping at the professor.  
  
"I did nothing, Black. Potter is experiencing the backlash of his own attempt at blocking my spell. Nor would that be happening if he was doing this correctly." Harry looked up just in time to see Snape sneer. "Good you're up. Get your wand out and try again." Snape turned to him to ignore Sirius Black.  
  
Again he says. It wouldn't happen if he was doing it correctly, he says. Well how was he suppose to know what was correct when all he had had was book learning. You could only learn so much from a book and even less from some one who never knew how it was suppose to work. No offense, Remus.  
  
"Legilimens."  
  
More of his memories. Just how was he suppose to get them to stop? Him facing the basilisk. The Prior Incantatem with Voldemort. He sent what he thought was a great mental shove. And saw: a boy shooting flies. Same as before. Was Snape still bored or was he feeling something different? Harry looked deeper. The same boy, though much younger, backing away from the man Harry had first seen. The boy older watching two men argue and the woman from before trying to stop the argument.  
  
Again he found himself on the floor not remembering how he got there. This time when he looked up, he saw his godfather and Snape facing off with Remus trying to be the mediator.   
  
"It's nice to see you still know how to use a wand. I had begun to think that spending all your time as a dog--" Snape was interrupted by a curse grazing his left shoulder.  
  
"You've not improved one bit Snivelus. Still can't dodge a simple spell. How do you manage?"  
  
"Sirius, stop! This isn't helping anything."  
  
"Remus, you saw what he did!"  
  
"I saw what happened. Hexing him won't answer what caused this."  
  
"We know what caused this. Snape hates Harry so he cursed him. Simple as that."  
  
"Hate him as I may, I do not go around cursing people I hate. Much less students. Unlike some people in this room."  
  
Sirius raised his wand again and Snape matched it. Remus drew his and called, "Fools, both of you. Put up your wands. You don't know what you're doing (1)."  
  
" 'What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds? Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death (2).' " Harry heard Irvan's voice behind him muttering.  
  
"Irvan," Remus called out when it became apparent he would be able to stop the duelers. "Don't just stand there. Help me to stop them! (1)"  
  
" 'What, drawn, and talk of peace! I hate the word, as I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee: Have at thee, coward!' (2)" Irvan was still muttering, and Harry wasn't sure Remus could hear him. Regardless, Irvan stepped towards the fray.   
  
He arrived just as the first seriously harmful curse flew. The vampire merely raised his hands and the curse changed direction and hit the ceiling harmlessly. "He's right about one thing you two are bloody idiots! First of all," he turned to Sirius, "until you have become as proficient in Occlumency as you are in self transfigurations, do not attempt to interfere with the boy's training. And you," this time he turned to Snape. "It is obvious the boy is not doing as he needs to be, but leaving him to fend for himself in such a situation is not solving the matter. Imitation is the best teacher, so show him what is expected. Though your lapses are not helping matters.  
  
"And you. If you can't keep the mutt from interfering, then you are hindering this project as much as he. This is precisely why he was detained that first time. If necessary I'll talk with the Headmaster and keep both of you out."  
  
The silence following that speech was almost deafening. No one moved. The vampire had finally looked menacing and ready to go for the kill.  
  
* And don't think you can ignore your training in the times you are not with Severus. The moment you can keep me out of your thoughts is the moment you know you have succeeded in Occlumency. *  
  
"But who were those men?" Harry wasn't sure he had wanted to ask that aloud or just to Irvan, but it came out loud and clear.  
  
"That is none of your business, Potter," snapped Snape.  
  
"Answer the bloody question or this will continue!" Irvan's response was unexpected and boarding on violent.  
  
Snape's glare would have been enough to melt solid granite, but Irvan's was cold enough to to freeze the ocean. Harry did not want to know what was being spoken, if anything.  
  
"Fine. The first one was my father's brother. The second my father. If you want to know any more I direct you to my great-grandfather, Sylvester. This lesson is over. Good night." The Potions Professor did his best to stalk out of the chamber, sporting a slight limp.  
  
"I don't want to here it," Irvan said, preempting anything Sirius or Remus could say. "Tonight is going to be long enough without having to listen to you trying to argue your points, as pointless as they are."  
  
"What do you mean?" Remus had the courage to ask.  
  
"I mean, werewolf, that Severus has been summoned and I do not know when he will return. Is that a good enough explanation."  
  
"Come on, Harry," his godfather called him, "Let's start putting up the tree while he's gone." Harry was certain only himself and Remus saw the look of disgust on the vampire's face. And only Harry heard him say, * Pity he wasn't finished off when there was a chance. * But what chance was he talking about. Not the encounter in the forest where Snape almost killed Sirius, right? Harry wasn't about to ask for clarification. He wasn't even sure he was meant to hear it. If anything the many faces of Irvan were beginning to scare him.  
  
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Disclaimer: (1) these are paraphrases and interpretations of Benvolio's speeches in Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet" Disclaimer: (2) these are actual quotes from Tybalt in Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet" I would give you the lines, but my source doesn't have them.  
  
AN: Sorry about the unpolished-ness of this chapter. I wanted to get it done before Christmas. Even though the actual Christmas scenes will arrive later.   
  
What to look forward to: Irvan and Remus get into another argument. Why House-elves and vampires get along for the most part. Dumbledore shows up. And what happened to Severus. 


	29. Chapter 29

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Chapter 29  
  
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As if things could not get any worse. He was hanging by a thread to sanity. Achieving that solely due to Totti supplying him with cow's blood. But what he needed was to drain the animal all at once, not by the gobletful. He would have done so if the animal would not be completely useless after doing so. And now he was stuck here until Severus returned. Severus, who had already expressed ill feelings about this night, had forbidden him from leaving the castle while the three bloody Gryffindors were present.  
  
Blood and bloody ashes. Things could not get any worse.  
  
"Irvan, I want to talk to you." Damn werewolf. He really should stop saying things like that because everything could always get worse.  
  
"What do you want to talk about?" Irvan turned to face the werewolf. "Where are the others?" Not that it mattered where the others were. He could just leave now, but that would only have the werewolf following him. It was really just a hope the man would veer off topic.   
  
"What was that all about?"  
  
He never thought it would be likely. "I am afraid I do not understand what you mean."  
  
"I am certain you do." Remus advanced closer; this time Irvan did not step away. Irvan was not sure if it was because he had accepted the idea that this werewolf would not tear him limb from limb just for the pleasure of it, or because the rising Hunger was affecting his instincts adversely. He was inclined to agree with the latter. "The entire conversation back there obviously had a point--"  
  
"And if you are asking me what that was, then you are far denser than I gave you credit for."  
  
"No Irvan. I am not here to ask what the point was. You made that inescapably clear. What I want to know is why you are choosing now to make your revelations."  
  
"There is no why, werewolf. I want that boy out of my head and unless he learns how to do so, I am stuck with his useless prattle of thoughts." Remus was taken aback at the vampire's forcefulness and resentment. Having his condition thrown in his face like an insult no longer meant anything to him; however, he had thought that Irvan had felt something for Harry other than annoyance. The man in front of him sighed slightly. "Don't get me wrong. He's a fine lad, but he's just a child. With the thoughts and desires of a child. I have enough trouble dealing with adults. As the three of you are proving. There are times when I believe Harry's more mature than the three of you put together."  
  
"So that's why you lashed out."  
  
"No that's not why I lashed out. That was the catalyst which caused me to lash out. The why is because I am stuck here with the likes of you." Irritation was prominent, leaving Remus to wonder at the vampire's sanity.  
  
"Funny, I would see it as the other way around."  
  
"Of course you would. But you are not stuck here. You were just told to come here. I on the other hand didn't have much of a choice in the matter. Now I'm stuck baby-sitting a small group of adolescents." Irvan stopped abruptly. "Blood and bloody ashes, you mean you left them alone! Of all the ... I'm going to kill Severus for this." With that the vampire began to stalk of for the main hall, no doubt onwards to Cicero's Keep.  
  
"Irvan, what on earth are you babbling about?" He called in frustration. And the conversation had not been going too badly, unless you took into account Irvan's useless answers.  
  
Having Irvan spin and suddenly present his face and fangs for observation had not been his first expectation.  
  
"Babbling? That was not babbling. It was muttering. There is a complete semantic difference between the two. As for the content, that is none of your business."  
  
"Then it had better become my business."  
  
"Be that as it may, I am not in a position to decide that."  
  
"You aren't in a position to do much, are you?" Irvan's eyes just hardened for a proper glare. That's when Remus noted the blending of red in the hematite. "So that explains it."  
  
"Yes, 'so that explains it.' That, as you so cleverly put it, tends to explain a lot. Not the least of which involves temper. Now if you will excuse me, I have other business to attend to."  
  
"Since that business seems to include Harry and Sirius, I don't see why I shouldn't accompany you."  
  
"If you had remained with those two 'children,' trimming that bloody Christmas Tree, we would not have to have had this conversation."  
  
"What is going on, Irvan?"  
  
"Let's just leave it at Voldemort, shall we. You can badger Severus about it later. Or better yet, have a conversation with the Headmaster. Now I'm going to make sure they're still alive and then find a satisfying meal. And to ease you obvious worry, the three of you are not on the menu. And I want you to stay with those two and take note if anything strange occurs."  
  
"Anything strange?"  
  
"Yes, anything strange. You know the two of them quite will, I would think you could point out anything strange in there mannerisms."  
  
"Tell me what is going on."  
  
"First and foremost, I have given my word not to tell you. Second, I have already let slip enough that you should have some idea as to what is happening. And third, telling you would only serve to hasten my demise. And I am quite partial to my current state of existence."  
  
"Very well, keep Severus's secrets. But I am going with you." The muttered reply was hard for even Remus's ear's to detect, though it was without doubt another insult. The vampire was keeping many secrets. The one Remus was most interested in was how Irvan knew the Snapes.  
  
Walking into Cicero's Keep was now akin to walking into another world. Between Sirius's transfiguring and conjuring ability and Harry's willingness to assist, the morning room had taken on a festive holiday air.  
  
"Hi, Remus!" Harry greeted from behind a box of tinsel. "Sirius and I decided Snape doesn't like Christmas because he can't stand the thought of Gryffindor red and gold sharing the same holiday as Slytherin green and silver."  
  
"Sounds like something you said when we were at school, Sirius."  
  
"Oh, does it?" Sirius smiled sheepishly. "Must be true then."  
  
"Master Irvan arrived just in time for eggnog," a high pitched voice interrupted.  
  
"If it doesn't relate to blood, then don't bother, Totti."  
  
Remus saw the tiny House-elf set rather large tray filled with a pitcher, cups, and sweets next to the protesting vampire. "Totti isn't forgetting Master Irvan." Totti proceeded to uncover a dish, revealing many red candies.  
  
"Disgusting. Blood Pops? Those are positively disgusting."  
  
"If Master Irvan doesn't appreciate Totti's gift, then Master Irvan can find his own."  
  
"Believe me, Master Irvan would much rather find his own." Irvan groused. "Blood Pops? Totti, those things have no nutritional value, taste nothing like blood, and are only named that so the wizards can have fun at playing a vampire. Now, Berttie Bott's has a flavor that is remarkably similar."  
  
"I thought Blood Pops were made for vampires."  
  
"No they were not, Harry. Do you think, given the wizards' notion of vampires, one would walk into a candy shop just to sate his Hunger with one of those?"  
  
"Guess not."  
  
"What are you doing here anyway, Irvan?" Sirius asked taking a dish from the tray. Remus drew his attention back onto the conversation at hand from where he had been wandering his gaze around the ornaments. It was still shocking him that Sirius was on speaking terms with the vampire.  
  
"Haven't the faintest." Just then Totti reappeared with another goblet. "Thank you Totti. I had begun to wonder if we were out." They watched as he drank deeply. When the vampire looked back down, he grace them with a tired glare, looking less ferocious than he had in the Cavan. "Don't you have something better to do? Like trimming that bloody tree?"  
  
"There's something wrong with you."  
  
"Very observant, Sirius." Irvan did not sound happy, more like he was moping. He hadn't intended to sound that way, he would have much rather had kept the anger he was feeling not an hour ago.  
  
"Master Irvan is experiencing the first stages of Hunger."  
  
"Thank you Totti, that will be all," he said in a strained voice. "As pleasant as you company might be, I am afraid I am not in a mood for entertaining." He rose to leave.  
  
"Now, hold on just one minute." It was the mutt. "You're going to explain you connection with Harry."  
  
"Sirius!" Harry managed in a fit of frustration.  
  
"Oh, well, is that all? The answer is quite simple." He paused for a dramatic effect. It would be lost on the spectators, of course, but then it was really a pause for him to regain his composure. Not that he could keep it long. "I don't bloody know how that bloody connection formed. It's there and I did not put it there purposely. Satisfied?"  
  
"Not really."  
  
"You'll just have to learn to deal with it."  
  
"Er, Irvan? When do you think Severus will return," Remus asked nervously. For a werewolf he did not have a constant stream of high self-esteem.  
  
"You always were a killjoy, Moony. Did you have to bring him up?"  
  
"We are all wondering about it, Sirius. I know you are included."  
  
"I only want to know how long he'll be gone, so I'll have time to search the rest of this place. Want a good look before we're kicked out."  
  
"I wouldn't advise it. Severus has place far too many wards within these walls. Many more date back to his ancestors. I doubt you'd survive."  
  
"You are worse than Remus."  
  
"Let's face it, it's a gift bestowed only to us dark creatures," Irvan stated dryly. The surprise was having Remus crack a smile. That shock did not last long as the werewolf lost his grin almost immediately.  
  
"Do you know when he will return?" Back to the original question then.  
  
"No, I don't. I will know when he returns, but I don't know when he will return." Not the answer they were wanting from the slight frown growing on the werewolf's face and the definite scowl from the mutt. Nor was it the answer he wanted to hear. Though his reasons were much different.  
  
Severus had a strange premonition about the coming evening. Severus had not shared the revelation, but Irvan had felt it. And Irvan had not liked what he saw. Damn his superstitions. If he had not been a vampire and inexplicably drawn to divinations he would have scoffed at those small hints of warnings. But no. Something was going to happen tonight and that something was going to happen to Severus Snape.  
  
Fate always had a way of making life worse.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
"Master Irvan?" a small, panic filled squeak woke him. He had been dosing? Irvan did not think that sounded right. He should not have been dosing. Not at night. And most definitely not with other people in the room. "Master Irvan?" the voice struck again.  
  
"What is it, Totti?" he answered quietly. There were still others in the room, sleeping. They had been insistent on knowing when Severus return, for Merlin knows what reason. Remus claimed it was concern. Sirius said it was to keep Remus company. Harry told Irvan privately that he didn't want to be alone in case he had another vision. Irvan had not informed the boy of his interference. Nor did he plan to, unless absolutely necessary.  
  
"Master Irvan," Totti began again, shaking badly with terror. It was not terror of the vampire, for house-elves and vampires could not easily harm one another. Their respective magic all but canceled each other out. "Master Severus is returned. Master Severus is in a bad way. Master Severus be dying!" she said in a crescendo, ending in a high pitched squeal.  
  
"Hush, Totti." Irvan scolded. "They are sleeping and I don't think Severus would appreciate them finding him so soon."  
  
"But Master Severus be DYING!"  
  
"Nonsense, I would have felt..." He never finished what he wanted to say. Totti was right. He had not noticed because he had been dosing. "Blood and bloody ashes, Severus. I did not mean what I said about suicide."  
  
"What's going on?" Remus mumbled, sitting upright on the sofa he acquired.  
  
"Go back to sleep, Moony. It's still early." The animagus shifted his position on his chair to get more comfortable.  
  
Lot of good they'll do. And he was wasting precious time. "Remus," Irvan filled his voice with the inherent power of the vampire race to influence others. He doubted it would work against the werewolf, but it would show that he was serious. "Remus," he repeated stronger. "I need you to floo Dumbledore and have him bring a healer. The password to enter is 'Iron Shards.' If you can not reach him through the floo, call for Phineas."  
  
Thankfully the werewolf left immediately.  
  
"Remus? Where are you going?" The boy. The boy was awake. He needed to do something with him.  
  
"Harry," Irvan spoke again, the controlling element in his voice growing stronger. Not that it was needed for the boy. "I need you to go with Totti and collect some potions she is unable to touch. Then go with her to prepare Severus's rooms. Hurry now." He spoke in a friendly manner. In a way that suggested that he was merely an old friend you would do anything for.  
  
Irvan turned to the last person in the room. Sirius Black. The man watched anxiously as his friends were ordered out of the room, undoubtedly wondering about the situation. Why did it have to be this one. Irvan frowned. Because he did not trust the animagus to go directly to the Floo Network. His influence would wear thin immediately after leaving his presence.  
  
"Sirius, I need you to come with me, and bring your wand." Need. People wanted to sate another's need more than a desire. Irvan lead Sirius down many corridors, ones never meant to be seen by the man, at a quickening pace. All the while keeping up a light murmur to keep the animagus following without question.  
  
The Portkey Room. The one place Severus could return to within the castle without lowering the wards.  
  
The litany stopped upon seeing Severus. Collapsed in a heap, shuddering in vain attempts to rise, and sticky sweet blood oozing slowly from the body. Self-control. How he hated that phrase and condition. "Sirius?" Damn, he sounded uncertain, loosing his hold on the man. "Do you know a blood clotting spell?"  
  
"Why don't you do it?" At least the wizard sound unnerved.  
  
"Because I don't have a wand! And without one, vampire magic does not respond well to CLOSING bleeding wounds!" This was not good. He was loosing control. He had been too long without a decent meal. And now he was presented with one he could not take. "Now can you are can you not cast a blood clotting spell!"  
  
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AN: Bear with me for a while. I am reviewing some plot line points that I want to incorporate as well as reviewing clues left in earlier chapters to make sure everything is flowing right. I do apologize for not being able to make steady and predictable updates.  
  
The integrity of this chapter worries me. I needed a way to set up the characters for the big unveiling, and I'm not sure how well this worked. 


	30. Chapter 30

AN: Irvan is making me so proud. With his charm and charisma, he is gathering a larger following everyday. What more can you ask for? It is so tempting to make the story revolve around him, but I promised myself that this story would center on Severus, Harry, and Sirius. So, I'll try and get back on track.  
  
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Chapter 30  
  
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"He didn't say what was wrong. Nor did he sound panicky. But I am certain it has to do with Severus," Remus stated hurriedly as he lead Dumbledore and Molly Weasly up the grand staircase towards Severus's private rooms. He did not know precisely where they were, only that they were down the opposite hall from their own.   
  
He was so intent on figuring out where he was going, he almost plowed over Harry. He would have if the boy had not yelped and jumped out of the way. "Professor! You need to hurry! Snape's stable, for now, I think, but Sirius and Irvan are ready to go at each other's throat!"  
  
"Lead the way, Harry," Dumbledore instructed, and the boy all but ran back in the direction he came.  
  
The scene they came across looked to be nothing more than a cold war. Irvan stood closest to Snape's bed, but his attention was focused on the element invading the arena near the entrance. "If I hadn't you would not have assisted," the vampire was saying.  
  
"Damn right, I wouldn't."  
  
"Then I don't see where this argument is going. You are no longer require. Since you have no desire to assist, then leave."  
  
"I'll leave when I damn well please. I'm still not satisfied with your explanation."  
  
"You never will be. You'll just end up seeking retribution sooner or later, as pitiful as you reasoning seems to be."  
  
"That's it!" The wand was out and the curse cast before anyone knew what was happening. The vampire, however, maintained a fair resistance to most spells. Instead of collapsing in an unconscious reck, he merely staggered heavily against the footboard of the bed in shock more than pain.  
  
"Why do I even bother?" Remus heard the vampire mutter. "None of them are worth it. But no, they are not to know." Those statements made no logical sense to the werewolf and apparently weren't heard by the others in the room.  
  
Glancing at Sirius, Remus almost registered something different, something odd about his friend's countenance. More specifically on the magical level. He would have ignored it if he had not remembered Irvan ranting about having to watch Sirius for odd behaviors. Was this connected? Yet Remus still knew nothing about what the vampire was trying to keep secret. So far the creature was doing a wonderful job at hiding the main information, but a horrible one of holding the slips of the tongue at bay.  
  
"Molly, see to Severus, please. I'll take the others outside so we won't disturb you," Dumbledore said quietly to the motherly woman beside him. Remus could smell the concern and fear from the old man, carefully masked beneath the usual calm countenance. The witch went immediately to Severus's bedside and made many quick diagnosis spells. "Sirius, Harry, Remus, would you wait in the antechamber. I'll be with you in a moment."  
  
Sirius, who had been struggling to keep is temper in check with the assistance of his godson, abruptly left with Harry trailing, looking bewildered. Remus hesitated, he knew he should go with his best friend, but he was curious as to Snape's condition. Unlike the other two, he had not witnessed Snape's entrance.  
  
"It could have been worse, Professor," Mrs. Weasly said turning her attention to the Headmaster. "He's lost a lot of blood but not enough to cause too much damage. Some broken bones and deep muscle tearing, repairable. Most of the damage is from curses and hexes, many are still present, so they'll have to be removed before the healing can begin."  
  
"Thank you, Molly. Just call if you need assistance." Dumbledore almost appeared consoled by the news. The worry only faded slightly. "Shall we, Remus?"  
  
"Totti," Irvan's voice from his forgotten corner of the room startled everyone, even as the named house-elf popped up from her forgotten corner at the head of the bed. "Tell Suli and Malver that Severus will be fine. Have them prepare two rooms, preferably near to here. Then have some tea brought up for the Headmaster and Mrs. Weasley. And an owl for the Headmaster."  
  
Totti, who had been wringing her hands in despair, looked positively please at having something to keep her occupied. "Yes, Master Irvan. Totti be going right now. Totti gets tea and owl. Suli and Malver gets bedrooms made. Totti goes now." And the little elf disappeared with a snap, full of nervous energy needing to be expelled. Irvan, on the other hand, was looking positively morose.  
  
"Thank you, Irvan," Dumbledore said lightly. "I do need to tell Minerva I am away and will return in a few days."  
  
"What you need to be doing is watching Sirius," Irvan snapped. Molly seemed about to say something, but Irvan cut her short. "I am staying right here, Mrs. Weasley. I have seen several curses you will not be able to remove alone."  
  
"YOU'RE A VAMPIRE!" she shrieked the realization.  
  
"Yes, and I am not in the mood to quarrel. Do what you came to do, madame."  
  
"Come Remus, the others are waiting." Remus allowed the Headmaster to guide from the bedchamber to the outer room that served as a small sitting room.  
  
"Do you think it was Voldemort, Headmaster?" Remus found the courage to ask.  
  
"Until we know for certain, I would prefer not to guess."  
  
"But my scar never hurt last night," Harry protested. "Don't you think I would have seen something if Voldemort was mad enough to do that?" The boy actually sounded angry that he had not seen or felt anything.  
  
"I believe Irvan has been gaining a larger amount of control over what you feel and what you see," Professor Dumbledore explained calmly. Harry's reaction was anything but.  
  
"What else are you keeping from me? What visions has he kept from me? I have a right to know!"  
  
"Are you sure about that, Harry. What Irvan is doing is keeping those same visions from harming you physically. It has the added benefit of keeping you from harming yourself emotionally. Irvan sees everything you would normally see, and should he hear anything important he reports either to Professor Snape or myself. Think about what you are saying. Your health is not worth that."  
  
"Was it Voldemort?" Remus prodded again. Curiosity was getting the better of him.  
  
"That is all we have to go on for the moment. I have never seen him return in such a state." Dumbledore remembered the few times he had seen the Potions Master so abused. Usually after a violent encounter with Aurors. Most recently was his return from Azkaban.  
  
Totti interrupted by setting a tea tray between the argument. A roll of parchment and a quill rested unobtrusively on the edge of the tray, waiting for the Headmaster to compose a letter.  
  
Remus settled himself to serving tea, while Sirius quieted enough to noticed that Harry as nearly sleeping where he sat. Since the adrenaline of the early morning had faded, he was showing the interruption. Quietly he suggested that Harry return to his room to recover from the restless sleep on a couch.  
  
Dumbledore was worried about Sirius. He had just receive an owl from Severus stating Irvan's observations little over a day ago. There was something about the younger man's reaction this early morning that did not seem right. He could not place it, yet Irvan's assumptions seemed correct. However, Dumbledore was not entirely familiar with the combination of curse and potion, therefore he could not judge how much control Voldemort could have without activating the curse. He did not doubt that the week Sirius spent as captive gave Voldemort a constant presence even without direct activation. Irvan had said one could temporarily quiet the connection.  
  
It was coming to the point where he needed to tell both Sirius and Harry as to the dangers, and by default Remus.   
  
As nothing was forthcoming to fill the lapse of silence, the younger men were shifting awkwardly. "Perhaps it would be best to settle until day break. It has been a busy morning." As the remaining Marauders accompanied each other out of the room, Dumbledore knew he need not worry about any more odd occurrences.  
  
Taking the quill and parchment, he scratched out a missive to Minerva, telling her he needed to take care of business concerning Severus. He took another sheet and wrote to the Head of the Re-warding, a highly ranked Auror named Pheldon, imparting the knowledge that urgent family business required him to remain away from Hogwarts for an undetermined amount of time and that Minerva could handle things at the school extremely well.  
  
Resting the quill back on the tray, he rose with the letters in hand and reentered Severus's chambers. Where apparently Irvan and Molly were having a disagreement of some sort.  
  
"Now see here, woman!" Irvan stated loudly from the far side of the room. He was clearly attempting to control his anger and frustration. "Mending the bones is all well and good, but doing so while the muscles are mangled!"  
  
"Then you tell me how to repair the damage. None of the potions nor the spells I know work!" Mrs. Weasley was having the same difficulties.  
  
"I ask for a Healer and they send you!"  
  
"I would like to see you do better!"  
  
And Severus was not stirring in the slightest. Dumbledore decided it was time to interrupt before one or the other lost their temper. Thankfully he saw Totti perched at the foot of the bed, looking more concerned for the occupant than the witch and vampire prepared to duel at the moment. "Ah, Totti, I need these sent by two owls." The request had the desired effects. The House-elf jumped to be of service. Dumbledore suspected she was feeling quite depressed when not busy. The vampire and the witch turned towards him, argument forgotten for the moment. "How are things, Molly?"  
  
"The curses are gone, but I can't get the torn muscles to mend. I was about to heal the bones, but HE interrupted." Still frustrated, yet loosing steam.  
  
"Merely to remind you of the dangers of tearing the muscles further. Were it mere snaps, then mending the bones would not be dangerous; but as it is, the bones are crushed." Irvan pointed out bitterly. The signs of Lust were settling nicely and he was having a distinct difficulty with keeping himself from attacking.  
  
"What I don't understand, Professor, is why the muscles round the good bones will not mend. It is almost as if there is something blocking my spells."  
  
"Perhaps a bit of rest would not go amiss. Severus is in no danger at the moment, is he?"  
  
"No, nor is it likely he will be waking anytime soon. He lost a lot of blood. I just don't understand." She shook her head.  
  
"Get some rest. I'm sure Totti will show you to a room to recuperate." The petite House-elf had returned and immediately leaped at the mention of a task.  
  
"That sounds best. Perhaps some tea, as well." Molly allowed the herself to be lead out of the room by an eager elf.  
  
"Perhaps it would be best for you to rest for the day. The sun will rise shortly." Dumbledore waited expectantly, but the vampire just stood, staring blankly at the bed.  
  
Many long moments lasted with the lightening of the sky. The words spoken came out strangled. "I can't." Pause. "Blood and bloody ashes, Severus. Either get yourself killed properly or not at all." The bitterness in his voice could not be controlled.  
  
"Do you know how this happened?"  
  
"No. I was not aware of it at the time. And no, it was not Voldemort. It was your bloody Aurors. So likely, Voldemort sent him and others and they were caught. But I have no idea why. So you may as ell discontinue that line of questions."  
  
"Now might not be a good time to ask, but it seems Molly will be staying,,,"  
  
"NO." Irvan interrupted sharply. "You have already placed three Gryffindors too many under this roof. And I have allowed two others without Severus's knowledge. I will not allow the whole Weasley clan." The vampire was close to spitting venom. He had gone from morose to quietly raging. It was an interesting sight.  
  
"It is the holidays and I do not think it would be considerate to keep Mrs. Weasley away from her family."  
  
"Then send her back. I had asked for a Healer anyway. I only asked for you because I thought it would be easier to deal with the others since Severus would be out of it. But as it is, you are causing more difficulties by being here."  
  
"I had actually thought I prevented some of the more dangerous ones." Dumbledore mused to the annoyance of the vampire. "I am certain you would have been able to stop Sirius from attacking further."  
  
"Do you have something constructive to say, or are you here merely for show?" Irvan said dangerously low.  
  
"It might not be good to continue this conversation now, what with the sun rising."  
  
"I already told you, I can't." Dumbledore waited for an explanation. Irvan, however, watched silently as the sky beyond the window brightened to a cheery gold. "To do so, we need to be relaxed at some level. Unfortunately between Severus, Sirius, and now you, said feat cannot be accomplished!" Even as he spoke, Dumbledore noticed weariness creep into the wild blood and mercury eyes. It looked as though a simple enchantment would send the vampire over to sleep. That would only be a temporary measure, but enough to get him to last the day.  
  
Without a word or warning, the vampire crumpled. Dumbledore's first thought was the encroaching sunlight, but the timid approach of a tiny body changed his opinion.  
  
"Master Irvan just needed help," Totti said peering over the downed man. "Going dormant is not easy. Totti knows. Master Irvan complains often."  
  
"He did seem to need assistance," he responded, levitating the seemingly dead body to a couch. "He will need to be protected from the sun."  
  
"Totti already did that. Master Irvan will wake at sunset, not happy," Totti grinned mischievously. Her expression dulled immediately as she looked back at Severus. "It wasn't just wizards who hurt Master Severus," the elf said sadly. And squeaked as though in trouble. She popped out of sight, leaving Dumbledore to wonder at the statement. Either Severus or Irvan would be able to answer, whoever woke first.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Professor Lupin?"  
  
"More interested in breakfast than sleep, Harry?" Remus's answer was as kind as usual, but Harry noted a deep set worry behind it.  
  
"Did you know?"  
  
"Know what?"  
  
"About Irvan?" There he asked the crucial question.  
  
"I knew he was there, but not how he was doing what he was doing. Dumbledore, I expect, had a good reason for not telling us, but I don't know, Harry."  
  
Harry sat at the table across from the Professor. Irvan had been keeping things from him. And he probably should be asking the vampire himself, but currently Harry could not reach the man. He didn't know why, but suspected that Irvan was keeping him out. Somehow.  
  
"But what if it was important?"  
  
"What do you mean, Harry?"  
  
"I want to know what he is doing. What he is planning. Everyone seems to think I'm the one who is suppose to do something about him, but how can I if I don't know what is going on?" There. He finally vocalized what had been haunting him since he had first learned about his past. "I want to know what Voldemort is planning to do to the people I know." he added softer.  
  
"Of course you do," Remus moved several seats closer. "We all want to know. But that knowledge is not worth your health. Especially if you can do nothing to change it."  
  
"But why did he not tell me what he was doing?" He told me he was going to help."  
  
"My guess would be Severus. You would have told Sirius and you have seen what that would have lead to."  
  
"But..."  
  
"Harry. You want to know. We all do. But we don't want to loose you. And I know Sirius would be devastated if we lost you. Don't worry about the visions. I'm sure what needs to be known is known by Dumbledore."  
  
"But do you think he would tell me if it concerned someone I know?" he accused.  
  
"Who do you think is in trouble? Everyone you know is fine. You have seen so yourself." Harry caught a strong note of concern.  
  
"You're worried about someone," he stated. "It's Sirius, isn't it. He's been acting kind of strange, isn't he?" he needed confirmation.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
Harry paused. How was he to explain this. "There are times when he just stares, not seeing anything. And then there are times when he just lashes out at nothing. I know I don't know him as well as you, but I've never seen him act like that. Just now, when he cursed Irvan, was the most recent."  
  
"I noticed." The Defense teacher reached for a mug of tea, silent. "I'm worried about him. He's never been as impulsive as he is now. But I don't know if he is still recovering from Azkaban or there is something different."  
  
"Do you think it was Voldemort?"  
  
"He has been on a mission for Dumbledore. That's all I know. But I don't know of any use Voldemort would have for Sirius. I hope none."  
  
Silence reigned for long moments. Each pondering their friends newly expressed oddity.  
  
"What about Snape?" Harry asked after the moments passed. "He was summoned and came back like that."  
  
"I certainly hope not."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"If Voldemort did that to Professor Snape, than I don't want to speculate as to why. We could very easily have lost the best link to Voldemort the Order has ever had."  
  
"So he is spying."  
  
"One hopes so. It's either that or dying."  
  
"Oh." Harry did not know what to make of this. Snape was either spying or he was dying. All he understood from Remus was that the Professor fully believed Snape was on their side. But how certain could he be. "Would Snape know if Voldemort did anything to Sirius?"  
  
"In all likelihood, yes. Why are you so worried about this?"  
  
"Well, there was a long period of time when Evan, I mean Irvan, wouldn't talk about Sirius. It seems like Irvan is very worried about Sirius. Either that or he is worried about what Sirius might do."  
  
"To tell you the truth, Irvan has been acting strange ever since we got here. Just after Severus left, I followed Irvan and he was letting the strangest things slip. And was irritated, no, furious that you and Sirius were left alone. And he told me to watch for anything strange on Sirius's mannerisms. "  
  
"You mean I might be right?"  
  
"I hope we are both just imagining things worse than they really are."  
  
"What if we're right?"  
  
"Let's get some breakfast and then take a nap in our own beds. You didn't sleep until after one."  
  
Harry knew this was just a way to avoid the question, but he knew better than to demand an answer from Professor Lupin. Some things were just not desirable to be discussed. "Where's Sirius?" he asked instead. It pertained to the previous conversation but not directly.  
  
Lupin frowned. "I have no idea."  
  
* * * * * *  
  
"Headmaster Dumbledore. Have you been in that chair all day?"  
  
"Hmm? Oh. It appears as though I have, Mrs. Weasley," Dumbledore chuckled quietly as he lifted a soft light green quilt from his lap. "It also appears that someone was considerate enough to lend me this." Molly blushed slightly.  
  
"I've been coming in periodically to check on Professor Snape. But it seems Totti has been keeping an eye on him for me. And on that vampire." Both pairs of eyes traveled to the body prostrate on the lounge.  
  
"He'll wake at sunset." Dumbledore provided.  
  
"Not a moment too soon. The sun is almost down."  
  
"He only wants to assist."  
  
"He has a odd way of showing it." Mrs. Weasley left that line of discussion to move to Severus's bed side. "He hasn't woken at all today. I'm beginning to think there is a curse we missed, but I can't seem to find one."  
  
"Totti said something other than wizards did this. Now, don't worry Totti," he said to calm the elf, who did not think she should have said anything, "it was nothing Irvan could not have told us if he had been able." Turning back to Molly, he said, "Shall we give it another look?" And they cast diagnosis spells to determine the cause of the injury and others to search for the deterrent.  
  
The muscles were still shredded. The bones still crushed. And no sign of what caused it. Molly had mentioned that the bleeding marks had not lain in sync with the major rips, as though the the deep flesh had been torn from the inside. As much as there seemed to be nothing, there was something. Something he could not place, but was incredibly familiar.  
  
He had a long memory, but whatever he had sensed had a magical signature that did not match anything he remembered. But it was close. To something.  
  
A startled scream interrupted his musing.  
  
"Master Irvan is not to be doing that!" The small House-elf stood in the small distance between the terrified witch and the terrifying vampire. Irvan had undergone dramatic changes upon waking. He was gaunt with no apparent muscular frame. Eyes more red and silver than hematite. Over all, Irvan resembled a starved wild animal more than a man. Which was now regarding the elf as a threat.  
  
Dumbledore didn't see movement, but the next instant Totti had thrown the vampire across the room. "Totti SAID Master Irvan is not to be doing THAT!"  
  
A door opened and heads turned. Someone growled, but Dumbledore was not sure if it was Remus or Irvan. Then Irvan fled.  
  
It was a brief, yet informative encounter. Irvan went for Molly Weasley as she was the only one close that was not protected by his promises. Vampires were wary of House-elves and House-elves were not afraid of vampires. And vampires hated if not feared werewolves. Very interesting indeed.  
  
"Are you all right, Molly?"  
  
"Yes, I'm fine. Just startled. I did not expect to turn around and see him right behind me!"  
  
"Why don't you sit down. And Totti, could you bring some tea?"  
  
"Master Irvan is not going to be happy about this. No, Master Irvan is not going to be happy about this, at all," the elf was muttering with ever increasing worry. Worried about herself or Irvan? She popped away presumably to get tea.  
  
"I heard screams," Remus explained walking up to Mrs. Weasley.  
  
"It's fine, Remus. We just were not expecting sunset so soon." Turning to Molly, he said, "Did you notice anything different this time?"  
  
"No, I'm afraid not. There is something repelling my spells, but I don't know what it is."  
  
"Is Severus alright?"  
  
"He is in the short term, Remus. But unless we can figure out what caused this, it is unlikely we can heal him."  
  
"Do you think Irvan knows?"  
  
"I am certain of it. Once he is aware, he should be able to tell us." The only question was how long was the vampire going to take.  
  
"Has anyone seen Sirius? I've been looking for him most of the day." Sharp change in subject in hopes of easing the obvious worry over the Potions Master.  
  
"Mister Sirius is in his room," Totti answered, setting the tea tray near Mrs. Weasley. "Mister Sirius is asking for his lunch and I is giving it."  
  
"Was he there all afternoon?"  
  
"No. He is getting books from Rowena's Library."  
  
"Strange. SIrius doesn't normally read unless he absolutely has to."  
  
"Agreed. Remus, see if you can find him and keep an eye on him."  
  
"Headmaster, what is going on? First Irvan and now you are telling me to watch Sirius. I want to know why."  
  
"And you will. You, Sirius, and Harry. But I would rather wait until Severus is healing. One worry at a time." Dumbledore watched as the werewolf turned sharply for the door. Privately he felt horrible about keeping that situation quiet. But he refused to allow others worry if they did not have to. And the time was approaching that he needed to tell them id he was to keep the peace.  
  
"Molly, I don't suggest you wait up for Irvan. You need sleep as much as any of us."  
  
"That means you as well, Headmaster. That means no sleeping in chairs to night. A proper bed this time." Molly set down her cup and peer seriously at him. "What did you sense?"  
  
"Something I can't place."  
  
* * * * * *  
  
It was well past midnight, long since Mrs. Weasley had left, when the balcony windows drew open softly of their own accord. The ripple of the night breeze would be enough to shift the old man into full awareness. He must have been waiting. And the one who should be protesting that presence was bedridden and unconscious. The elf protected her master from her post at the foot of the bed. The elf would sense him first.  
  
"Master Irvan is not being where he needs be."  
  
"Don't judge, Totti. It has never been your place." He closed the doors and the distance separating him from his master. It was not the most pleasant realization, but it was one he had made many years ago and only rarely regretted. This man would still command some form of loyalty had the circumstances been different. Irvan owed it to the man's ancestors.  
  
"Master Irvan is not being where he needs be."  
  
"You're right, I wasn't. However, pointing that out now seems quite ridiculous."  
  
"Master Severus is needing your help. It wasn't wizards who did this."  
  
Irvan knew his jaw dropped. "Wasn't wizards? Blood and bloody ashes. Sometimes I wonder if the death wish is yours or someone else's, Severus. Let's see what wants to kill you this time. Besides Voldemort." Slowly he knelt beside the ill wizard. He needed to be as close as possible for this, and knew that he would suffer ill consequences for this action. It was not an easy one to preform.  
  
Totti helped him pull the covers and sheets back to expose Severus's chest. He had to do this slowly or he would harm the wizard even more. Shifting his awareness into what he could of Severus's, he took stock of the damage. One thing was apparent immediately.  
  
"Damn it all to the pits of Hades," he cursed softly. He was primarily annoyed that he had not seen this first. But the caster of this curse was very subtle. And the curse was never meant to be found. Only someone who knew the caster would recognize the residual signature all spells leave. He numbed all areas affected to give the wizard a fairly peaceful sleep, then stood to face the older wizard standing behind him.  
  
"Irvan."  
  
"Totti, please be kind enough to escort the Headmaster to his room." The response was colder than he had intended, but he was in no mood to explain what had happened to Severus. Especially as he was not sure as to the precise cause.  
  
Dumbledore ignored the elf. Stubbornly trying to know everything. "What has happened, Irvan?" He was tempted to ignore the wizard further and just depart; but there was such genuine grief and concern ripping at the wizard's heart, Irvan found it impossible to deny even the most terse of comfort. At least not to another who wanted only for Severus to live.  
  
"If you must know, Headmaster, Severus has not only been attacked by wizards, but also by vampires," Irvan managed cool and precise, but still giving off a nervous waver. Dumbledore starts at learning of the second attacker. Slightly kinder, he added, "Severus is sleeping, but I can do nothing for him at the moment. Now, Totti will escort you to you rooms. Then I will go an prepare to better assist him."  
  
"What do you mean you can do nothing for him," was the demand.  
  
"I can do nothing at the moment for the sole reason that I do not have the proper tools nor enough stamina to remove that curse." Cold logic was all he was capable of at the moment. At a different and all too recent point in time he would have been raging and wasting time. "Believe me, Headmaster, Severus will be fine at the moment. And you will know when I attempt to do anything further. At sunrise you may expect the rest of the Weasley contingent. Provided you give he appropriate documents."  
  
A letter was written and a Headmaster put to bed.  
  
"Watch him, Totti. You know how to reach me should things get worse."  
  
Irvan thought he was starting to understand why so many humans enjoyed a strong glass of liquor. It would be easy to forget the troubles. But he would have to wait to enjoy the vampire's equivalent. Right now he needed a more satisfying meal than what the forest could provide.  
  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
AN: I guess it wasn't really a cliffhanger this time. We won't really know much until Severus wakes up, then all hell will break loose. If it hasn't already. I don't know when I'll post the next chapter, finals are coming up. I'll post as soon as I have a chapter ready. In the mean time, I'll respond with some encouragement.   
  
Happigolucki616: Thanks for the praise. I will give a concise review in a future chapter incase I've gone terribly off topic. I do apologize for the long spaces of nothing, much of it is not intentional, but I have to keep up with life in Japan, so I will post when I find time to write. And I solemnly swear that I will endeavor to make the chapters as interesting as possible to relieve the stress of waiting.  
  
xikum: I never will give up on this story. Irvan is far to much fun and don't believe him, but he enjoys the company. I am thoroughly please that I've managed to keep everyone in character and allow them to be sympathized. As for Severus, Irvan won't let me kill him, so no worries. I'm just waiting to see who gets the first shots at Irvan, he's asking for it if you ask me.  
  
Persephone Lupin: 3:30 am. Wow. Now that is a compliment. And as for the chapter between 24 and 25, I actually have thought about it. But that scene could easily be added with what I have planned. Sorry but cliffhangers are what my mind is working with right now. It will get better.  
  
Nebula Zirconia: Is this enough? For the moment? I'd give you a patch for the withdrawl, but I don't have a large enough market.  
  
Lady_ravena: I've never read Anne Rice. Irvan just kind of appeared. So I am glad you like Irvan even as you read Anne Rice. I can't promise anything about cliffhangers. ::sad smile:: They just happen and I don't try to stop them. I'll try to make it up to you, somehow.  
  
shadoewhunter: Thanks. I try to make them enjoyable.  
  
Loki19: I am very glad the suspense was working. I wasn't sure about that. Insecurities you know. Severus will return. And all that wit will surge into the forefront. Just wait. We still have his reaction to the Headmaster and Mrs. Wealsey's presence.  
  
And to Padawan Jan-AQ, Lady Lightning, amy, Eizoku, PrphtssP, Kemenran, and Kateri1 and all the other readers: More is on the way and hopefully it will be as entertaining as the rest. Personally I hope it will be an edge-of-your-seat-can't-believe-she-did-that-to-you-again type of reaction. 


	31. Chapter 31

AN: This chapter is to set up many things I wish to include later. First and foremost, the arrival of the Weasleys and that Bill and Charlie will be of great assistance. Second, Irvan has a far more complicated history that will be a center of the sequel "Something More" (Corny I know, but somehow it fits) and a prequel for Irvan and the Founders called "Something Else." Thirdly, show how they will find a way to help Sirius, can't have him like this forever (though that would be fun).  
  
_____________________________________________________________  
  
Chapter 31  
  
_____________________________________________________________  
  
For some of the occupants of the mansion, it was the second time they were awoken to a clamorous morning. However, instead of the ruckus of animals, they were treated to the gift of gab all excited teenagers were capable of. And this instance was punctuated by the fact that said teenagers were Weasleys.  
  
"A couple last rude remarks and Totti will show you around," Professor Irvan said to them once the portkey dropped them off just a rather large round room, devoid of any obstructions for the safety of portkey passengers.  
  
Bill was having difficulties believing this _Professor_ was merely a Professor who had a strong friendship with Professor Snape. He trusted the letter penned by Headmaster Dumbledore. And he believed his younger bothers and sister about the man teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts and Potions. But, and he was certain Charlie and his father agreed, that this man was also something completely different than who he seemed to be.  
  
"First off, your presence is not desired here, and I only brought you here as a favor for Mrs. Weasley. Second, you are not to go anywhere that is not specifically shown to you as a room where you may enter. Now if you will follow me."  
  
Bill thought he saw a glint of silver in the man's black eyes as Irvan turned sharply for the exit. Ginny, Ron, and Fred and George followed first. All babbling incessantly, though a bit more quietly now, about being inside Snape's home.  
  
"What are you thinking, Bill?" Charlie asked as they left the portkey room.  
  
"I'm thinking that he's not human."  
  
"Is that all? I thought you would be more interested in the wards engulfing this place, while I was the one worry about whether or not our host was human."  
  
"Those did catch my attention. What do think, Dad?"  
  
Arthur Weasley held a serious expression on his face, one of the few times his musings cause such a outward visage. "It is not who Irvan is, nor where we are that worries me. It is why your mother was asked to come here in the first place and why she needs to stay so long that Professor Dumbledore wants us to be here."   
  
Bill frowned. He had been the one to greet the Headmaster at five in the morning. He called for his mother with little thought, other than it involved the Order in some respect. But he did not expect it to keep his mother for too terribly long. Obviously he was wrong.  
  
What if it was Harry that Dumbledore had needed to assist? Everyone had to evacuate the school for the re-warding. He knew Harry was having increased trouble with his dreams, but Bill had thought that Dumbledore had found a solution for that. How ever temporary.   
  
"RON!" Relief flooded though him as Harry's joyous yell caught everyone's attention. "What are you doing here? What are any of you doing here?"  
  
"They are here for the holidays, for as long as Mrs. Weasley must remain here," Irvan answered first. "If you would accompany Totti and the younger Weasleys to their rooms, I'm sure you wouldn't pass up an opportunity to explain what you are doing here." As simple as that, Irvan dismissed the lot of them.  
  
"Professor Irvan?" It was Ginny.  
  
"Yes, Miss Weasley?"  
  
"Thank you," the little redhead blurted out in one breath before running after the older boys.  
  
"That was unexpected," said Bill's father.  
  
"Yes, it most certainly was." Irvan's answer sounded slightly odd, but Bill could not place it. "If you gentlemen would follow me," the man's voice returned to his normal blank tones.  
  
Together with his father and Charlie, Bill followed Irvan up a flight of the grand staircase and though a long corridor filled with faded tapestries to the only open door. Out of which he could hear hushed voices.  
  
"No, I still can't see it, Professor. Not even when I know what I'm looking for." His mother sounded worried. Who was she talking about? He had seen Harry, so it couldn't be him. He was fairly certain Harry was going to stay with Remus Lupin over the holidays, but Bill had not seen the werewolf yet. Was it possible?  
  
"I told you before," Lupin's voice, "I know what did it, but I don't have a clue as to how it did that, nor if it is possible to even see what it did." Thankfully the werewolf was still there  
  
"You said it was vampires." A new voice. Bill thought it was Sirius Black, the man he met over the summer during one of the Order's meetings. Dumbledore had kept them locked in the room while he explained the details. Surprise was the obvious reaction, as was fear and anger. No one had been happy about the reactions, but at least no one attempted to curse the escaped convict. "Those spells usually wear off soon after. Why's this one being such a bother?" Sirius did not sound as though he cared about the problem, only about the abnormality.  
  
He and Charlie exchanged glances. Vampiric magic tended to become very complicated stuff once you got past the basic explanations. Bill had studied what was available. Which was not much by comparison with other creature magicks. But why would they be worried about vampiric magic?  
  
That's when it hit him. The only person he they had not met in this house, was the owner, one Severus Snape. If the Potions Professor was the one who was ill, than it stood to reason that they would be allowed in despite the fact they were not wanted.  
  
The conversation did not resume as they walked into the room. As Bill had labeled, Sirius, Remus and his mother were within, along side Headmaster Dumbledore. All of whom appeared to be sharing a pot of tea in the small sitting room. The Headmaster rose to greet them, "Ah, gentlemen, I trust the trip went safely." Bill thought he heard Irvan mutter something about a 'bloody portkey.' "Please come sit, I fear there is much to explain."  
  
"It's about Severus, isn't it?" Mr. Weasley stated. At a questioning eyebrow from his wife, he explained further, "He's the only one not present. And seeing as how this is his house..."  
  
"Yes, it is Severus. Currently he is asleep..."  
  
"Unconscious would be the word I would use," Irvan interrupted the Headmaster curtly. "I thought you would have the decency to be direct."  
  
"Would you prefer to explain events?" Dumbledore asked, sounding innocent. When Irvan did not respond, the Headmaster returned his attention to the new arrivals. "A couple of nights ago, Severus returned from what we assume was a Death Eater raid. Irvan deduced that most of the curses that Molly has removed were from Aurors. It wasn't until later that he discovered the reason we could not understand why Molly could not heal the ripped muscle tissue was because of a curse laid down by a vampire."  
  
Bill waited for more, but none seemed forthcoming. "But how would you know how to spot a vampiric curse? They are near impossible for a wizard to detect and almost equally impossible for a wizard to correct."  
  
All eyes went towards Irvan. "That would be perhaps because I am a vampire." This was only a shock to three of them. "Now, part of the reason I agreed to bring you here, was because you and your brother, Charlie, have encountered vampiric curses before. I am hoping you might be able to remove this curse to allow Mrs. Weasley to heal the muscles. It would be easier on Severus if wizard's magic was used for this instead of vampire's."  
  
"Why would that be?" Remus asked.  
  
"It is the nature of vampiric magic to be rather insidious. The same applies to beneficial uses as well as malevolent ones. Our magic is only meant to work with us, not normal humans. Or at least the magic used against Severus."  
  
"What about what you did to me?" Sirius piped up.  
  
"I was merely affecting the area around you, not you yourself."  
  
"No, the other time. With the whole speeding me up and stuff." Bill had no idea as to what Sirius was talking about, nor as to what happened on either of these incidents.  
  
"Believe me, you were not unscathed. You were confused and disoriented for a full ten minutes before you began your demands." Was it just his imagination or did Irvan sound pleased about this.  
  
"Master Irvan!" Something small and loud interrupted. "It's Master Severus! He's awake!" A house-elf, of course.  
  
"He's WHAT!" Irvan's reaction was completely unexpected. "He should NOT be awake. Molly, I need you to put him back to sleep until we can remove that curse." He flew into the adjoining room, closely followed by Mrs. Weasley. Bill and the rest of the conversation partners were not far behind.  
  
Snape was still bedridden, but obviously struggling to leave its confines. "The book... chest... must..." The Potions Professor sounded feverish, but Irvan paled and his steps faltered momentarily. "Must... h...master... the chest."  
  
"Molly!"  
  
"It's not responding. Something's blocking me!"  
  
"Shit!" Irvan rushed to the bedside. Snape must have recognized him because his eyes cleared for a brief moment and he declared clearly, "Don't touch me, you leech!" The vampire completely ignored the order and roughly took Snape's head in his hands and uttered a word Bill did not recognized from any language.  
  
"What is it, Irvan?" Dumbledore demanded.  
  
Irvan whirled on the Headmaster. "It's rapidly blocking all attempts at wizarding spells, making it impossible for any of you to do more than irritate it."  
  
Dumbledore managed to combine fatherly worry over Snape with a cold detachment directed at Irvan. " I could discern that; I meant about the book and chest."  
  
The vampire actually growled. "Bill, Charlie, with me." And fled for the hall.  
  
Neither Bill nor his brother hesitated much. Questioning the logic and sanity of the action, but followed nonetheless. Which seemed a reckless venture through a hazardous maze. Once Bill, who prided himself one being able to remember any route he used to get somewhere, was completely lost, the vampire halted before an empty frame.  
  
"Blood and bloody ashes, Salazar! You pick now to go visiting!" So the portrait was of Salazar Slytherin. This house was getting more and more interesting. Irvan rapped sharply on the frame until a tidy man in deep greens moseyed into view. The portrait must have been done while the man was still rather young. He had long black hair, clasped formally at the base of his neck and splayed neatly over his left shoulder. The face was not remarkable, though it was clean shaven. The eyes however, glittered mischievously a brilliant green. "Took your time, I see."  
  
"Now, Irvan, there's no reason to be hostile. You look older, how long has it been?"  
  
"I need the Chest, password: To open dead eyes."  
  
"What happened to pleasant conversation?" Salazar asked as he faded leaving a blank space on the wall. Shortly, a long, ornately carved wooden chest appeared. At first, Bill thought it was glowing because of the spell used to move it, but once it was clear of the wall the soft brown aura remained. This was no ordinary chest.  
  
"Well, take it!"  
  
The brothers did so. Salazar reappear, more concerned now. "What has happened?" he asked stoically.  
  
Irvan again ignored the query. "Take them back to Severus's room." And he was gone.  
  
"I'm starting to worry about that guy, Bill," Charlie said from his side of the chest. "He doesn't seem to be very coherent."  
  
"Don't worry about him," the painting spoke. "He's managed to survive over eighteen hundred years fretting over this family. I'm sure the present one can't be that much of a dilemma. Come now, Irvan wants you back in Severus's room. Though while we are on our way, perhaps you could inform me as to what has happened? Ah. Forgive me, I haven't properly introduced myself. Salazar Slytherin, at your service."  
  
"Bill Weasley."  
  
"Charlie Weasley. Pleasure, I'm sure."  
  
"Weasley? A fairly old name, if I remember correctly. Not the richest, mind, but a truly honest family. Formed after my time, but Snapes have always spoke highly of them."  
  
"Are we talking about the same family?" Charlie objected, for he had the breath to spare at the moment. "I don't know anything about the former Snapes, but the current one sure as hell hates us."  
  
"Severus? I wouldn't go as far as that. He does like to complain about your reckless honesty. Though he has been worried about, what was his name, Percy, I believe. Too impressionable for his own good. And never taking advice from where he should be. Ah, but enough about this. What has Severus gotten himself into this time. He so rarely returns nowadays."  
  
"We're not completely sure. We've only arrived just recently."  
  
"Hmm. Something unusual by Irvan's reactions. Right, here."  
  
"Well, they said something about Snape being attacked by vampires."  
  
"That would get Irvan into a conundrum. Poor fellow never knew how to handle his own race. Left, here. So, Severus has been attacked by vampires. That explains Irvan's protective mood. But that does not explain why he needs the Chest."  
  
"Something about a book."  
  
"A book? Hmm."  
  
Slytherin's lack of explanation only left Bill more confused than before. The Founder must have known about a book that Snape would have put in the chest. Much of the rest of the way passed in relative silence, with the occasional directions when the lack paintings prevented Slytherin to continue with them. Slytherin seemed caught up in thought, as much as a thousand year old portrait could.  
  
"This is as far as I can go. There are no more paintings along this corridor I am able to take. Muggle, I believe. Severus's door is the fifth one past the picture of the swans, at least I'm told it is a picture of swans. Looks more like a inhospitable bog to me. If you remain for any length of time, have Irvan take you some place where we could converse in peace. It has been an incredibly long time since there have been Gryffindors in this house. Godric and the Headmasters get so predicable after spending such a long time with only them to talk to. If circumstances allow tell Severus, I wish him a speedy recovery. And tell Irvan that I will not tolerate him hiding from me."  
  
"That was interesting." Bill felt safe once they were just outside the door.  
  
"You're telling me. You get to tell Snape."  
  
"Will not. Let's just say 'circumstances' do not allow. Think if we kick loud enough someone will answer?" he jested. Fortunately they did not have to. Sirius let them in. The man eyed the chest suspiciously but said nothing. Even in the wizarding world one does not see glowing chest everyday. And the chest itself was not heavy exactly. Just heavy enough and bulky enough to require to people to handle.  
  
Remus was the first one who seemed to recognize the chest and its uniqueness. "That's not what I think it is, is it?"  
  
Even as Bill shrugged his ignorance, a deep voice replied, "Yes, it is." Irvan had returned. Sour as ever. "Put it by the hearth." With the chest gone from his attention, Bill turned to see the vampire standing at the open entrance to the balcony. Holding a long shaft of black glass and a slender blue crystal tube.  
  
"I hope that's not what it looks like," he stated.  
  
"It is," was all the vampire said as he continued to slide the black glass through the blue crystal.  
  
"Will someone please explain to me what is going on here?" Black sounded quite frustrated.  
  
Headmaster Dumbledore, always able to calm any situation, responded to that cry. "We are still learning as to what is happening. Remus, if you would explain what this chest is."  
  
"I never thought it existed. But Irvan said it was. This chest is made of wood from the Tree of Life." That statement alone was enough to silence the room.  
  
Many long moments passed as the information was processed. "Bill," Dumbledore interrupted. "Would you care to explain what Irvan is doing?"  
  
Innocent enough. "The tool he will create with that volcanic glass and blue quartz will be strong enough to level this building if he so much as holds it wrong." Innocent to the unaided eye. "Some records call it the Wizard's Curse because no wizard could ever control the power it possessed. Others call it The Blight. Not sure why it has this name. But one thing is certain, that thing draws its power from the creatures around it, mostly permanent removal of a creature's magic is involved."  
  
"Incorrect." Irvan's voice broke the unspoken spell of silence. "The Blight, however, inappropriate, is a more accurate name than the Wizard's Curse. It's power is drawn directly from the wielder. Should said wielder not have enough magical energy to boost the wand, then it draws more heavily on surrounding creatures. It will always draw power from living magical creatures, but only those with an enormous amount of energy would feel it's effects. It is an exponential force: the greater the magic, the more is drawn. Totti, you will take Malver and Suli to the guest house and not return until six hours have passed." When had the house-elf entered? "Remus, I suggest you wait with the children downstairs. Since you are a werewolf, you will feel the drain more acutely than the others. The rest of you will no doubt have to assist Mrs. Weasley once I have removed the curse."  
  
"How do we know you won't blow us all up in the process?" Black, always the one to look on the bright side. Sometimes, Bill just wished the man would keep silent when it was obvious he could do nothing to change the outcome.  
  
"I know what I am doing." The voice was cold as ice.  
  
"How so?"  
  
"I've done it before." Irvan looked as though he was going to add an insult, but the petite house-elf was vying for his attention. "I thought I told you to leave, Totti."  
  
"Master Irvan should be opening the Chest before he uses the wand."  
  
"Not now, Totti."  
  
"Master Irvan should open the Chest now."  
  
"Totti, I'm not opening the Chest."  
  
"Master Irvan should open the Chest."  
  
"Master Irvan is not wanting to open that bloody Chest."  
  
Charlie gave Bill a strange, questioning look. Apparently they agreed. Either they misheard the entire conversation, or Irvan was whining.  
  
"Master Irvan is to be drinking this afterwards." Totti put a large pitcher on the coffee table and a deep mug beside it.  
  
"Oh dear gods, no." Bill would not have been surprised if Irvan tried to argue this point as well, but a pained noise from the bed caused him to change his mind quickly. "Fine, Totti. I'll open the bloody Chest. You just take Suli and Malver with you." With that Totti vanished and Irvan crouched in front of the softly glowing trunk.  
  
"Why do the house-elves have to leave?" Charlie asked.  
  
Distracted, the vampire answered, "Their magic will be among the first to be tapped. I would prefer the wand to gain its power from the vampiric magic. It will drain the curse of its power, allowing me to remove it without considerable harm to Severus."  
  
"If that really is from the Tree of Life, how are you going to open it?" Remus asked.  
  
"Family trait," the reply was terse. "One I would be completely satisfied with not having." With quick jerking motions and minimal amount of contact, the chest opened. "Sweet mother of Zeus," Irvan gasped before his face hardened. "He should not have this." And removed a softly glowing and very thick book. A intricate circular pattern as large as a man's hand decorated the cover. A wooden place, an exact copy of the design on the book, followed shortly after the book was placed securely on a nearby table. Standing, "You are not to touch those until Severus has told us why he has them." To the werewolf, "You should be downstairs." Then immediately went to Snape.  
  
"Someone should inform the children as to what is happening so they won't worry." The Headmaster was practical as usual. Remus left reluctantly. It was clear he desired to see how 'The Blight' was used.  
  
"The best thing for you to do," Irvan said from the bedside, not acknowledging their presence except through his words, "is not to move."  
  
The first Bill knew of a beginnings of a spell was a subtle wind against his skin but causing nothing to move. Slowly it gained strength, but always blowing in the same direction, away from Irvan. He heard no words even as the magical wind gained a steady pattern, whipping around him as though searching. Suddenly a complete stillness over took the room. It felt as though nothing could move, as though nothing would ever move again.  
  
Then a little trickle, feeling more like a cold slice of ice dragging a small something from him. A shivering cold cracked the room. And only grew steadily colder as magic was pulled from all imaginable sources. All gathering in a ice fire 'burning' where the vampire's hand connected with the blue crystal. The 'flames' rose as seconds passed. Suddenly, the ice fire rushed through the obsidian shaft and buried itself in Snape.  
  
The Potions Master did not move an inch.  
  
Bill must have blinked for he now saw Irvan on his knees as though in pain, trying to keep the wand steady as a blinding white streamed through the glistening volcanic glass. Directly back to the joint where black glass left the confines of blue crystal, once more collecting in an ice like fire.  
  
And still nothing moved.  
  
"What are you waiting for, Mrs. Weasley?" The hoarse whisper surprised everyone in the room. Yet the vampire did not appear to be as bad off as he sounded, for even as Bill's mother and Dumbledore rushed to the bedside, Irvan was picking himself up off the floor with little difficulty. Once he was standing as near to the raging fire as possible, he demanded, "Silk, as think as you can make it."  
  
Bill complied, and transfigured a nearby glass into two thick silk cushions stuffed with folds of silk, and another long strip to secure the soft container. Only then did Irvan move the wand carefully from its cradle on his chest. Once placing it between the rolls of silk, he removed his hand. As blue and stiff as frostbite.  
  
"Here," Bill said as he placed the pitcher and mug in front of the vampire, He figured pouring the drink would irritate him. Irvan busied himself with his one good hand, ignoring all others present.  
  
"What was that?" Black asked in awe. Odd coming from someone not interested in either of the two parties involved.  
  
Silence reigned.  
  
"Come," the Headmaster said. "Molly will watch Severus for a while. We should give them some peace. And there are some things which with I wish to discuss with you, Sirius. And perhaps, Bill could take a closer look at that book." The statement was directed to the silent vampire.  
  
A long, slow sip. "Leave it." Another sip. "I want to know why Severus has it, first."  
  
"Very well." And he left in the company of Sirius Black.  
  
Bill's father was approaching them now. "Come on, boys. You're mother will be along soon." Bill thought about staying to question Irvan about the book, for he was extremely interested. But for the moment, the only mystery he would be looking into was why this place was so protected.  
  
"Arthur, wait," Irvan called after them. On turning, his face showed nothing but seriousness. Not even a hint of the weariness he should be feeling. "Before you injure yourself while tempting the wards, Bill, I'll save you the trouble and a lot of pain. This is Ciara Aloysius. And I'll remind you not share that information with the younger members of your family. Now you understand why you are not welcome here."  
  
Bill was stunned. This place truly did exist. And it belonged to Snape? But all the legends had it belonging to an obscure family named Docilus, who later became a family of great renown as the Doles. But how were the Snapes related to the Doles? One would think history would remember such a change.  
  
"Bill, Charlie," their mother called. "They're needing their rest now. Come on."  
  
______________________________________________________________________  
  
AN: I know I'm not done with this fic or "Price of Loyalty," but PoL is starting to come to a close and I give this one 10 to 15 more chapters (not written, but I know what I want done, just need to write it). So, I've posted possible fics for me to concentrate on next. Take a look, and if you would like to see one before the others, let me know.  
  
All right. Now for the interesting part of the chapter....... Answering reviews! (Because I never know how long it will take to write a chapter anymore and want you all to know the reviews are greatly appreciated) I'm working my way up to 250 so I have enough yen to get to the train station.  
  
Mystical Dragon: Many, many thanks in regard to your comments. Do forgive me though, Severus will not wake until the next chapter. Which is also the chapter where Sirius, Harry, and Remus get to learn about Sirius. Just hold out a little longer.  
  
Leah Durose formerly luna699: (just love the long name, how long until it's shortened?) How best to answer your queries? No, Dumbledore has not met this vampire, but... you'll see, next chapter I think. As for Harry, well, just wait until he learns what was kept from him.  
  
shadoewhunter: Severus will wake next chapter. Just hang in there. I needed to deviate in order to leave the hints I needed to.  
  
Eizoku: Is this better? I did wrap things up this time. And remain affectionate towards Irvan, I'll I'm going to say is he won't like me much after the story is over.  
  
Padawan Jan-AQ: Well, Severus is bound to be fine now. At least until next time. And Harry has much more to go through before he fixes his problem.  
  
Kemenran: My ever faithful and persistent reviewer. More is always coming. I even have a sequel planned called "Something More."  
  
happigolucki616: I think I only managed to give you more questions about Severus in this chapter. But not to worry, concrete information is coming. 


	32. Chapter 32

AN: I am going to apologize for the beginning of this chapter before you begin to read it, it was not what I expected.  
  
___________________________________________  
  
Chapter 32  
  
___________________________________________  
  
"How about this one?" Ron said pulling another box from the shelf. "Mon-op-o-ly. Wonder what the point of this game is."  
  
"Monopoly. Isn't that like taking over everything?" Ginny asked, still looking along the shelves at the other names. "This one looks a lot like chess. Stra-te-go. What does that mean?"  
  
"Who cares. Forge, E-13."  
  
"What! You cheat! You sank my cruiser!" George stands, takes off an imaginary hat and hold it to his heart. "All the brave souls who died in the line of duty. They will not have died in vain. And their memories shall never be forgotten. They shall be avenged!"  
  
Harry shook his head at the twin's antics. They didn't seem to care if the pieces didn't blow up on them or do anything magical. They enjoyed making fools of themselves anyway. He of course knew as much about any of these games as the rest of the Weasley family. His big question centered on why Snape had all the games in the first place.  
  
But that was the furthest thing from his mind at the moment. He was spending Christmas with his godfather and the Weasleys. The whole lot of them.  
  
"This one looks fun," Ginny said pulling another box from the shelf. "Cluedo. Wonder what that means. There's one just behind it called Clue. Think they might be the same?"  
  
"You sank my battleship!" George cried. "Oh, the navy that has been lost to the bottomless depths of Davy Jones's Locker. May their memory remain in our hearts forever."  
  
"Well, one game down," Fred remarked. "What next? Ho, Ginny, my dear, what, pray tell, are you holding?"  
  
"Don't know. Says a murder mystery."  
  
"Forge-"  
  
"And Gred, detective sleuths-"  
  
"At your service. Let's give this one a shot."  
  
"Right indeed. Let's see, now. Six players, oh, they have names. Let's see, Harry you'll be Reverend Green, with your eyes you could be no other."  
  
"Ginny, you're Miss Scarlet, no explanation needed."  
  
"Ron, Professor Plum for you. That is the color you turn when embarrassed, isn't that right, ikkle Ronniekins."  
  
"I'd rather be Colonel Mustard," Ron said grimacing at the statement.   
  
"Right then, that leaves Mrs Peacock for myself and Mrs White for you, dear brother."  
  
"Now it says we are to pick three of the cards out of the deck, a weapon, a person, and a room. Ok, the candlestick sounds fun."  
  
"In the conservatory."  
  
"And the person. Reverend Green."  
  
"Hey."  
  
"Sorry, Harry, but someone had to do it."  
  
"Fred, you are suppose to choose the cards WITHOUT looking," Ginny said exasperated.  
  
"Oh fine, Miss Scarlet. You choose."  
  
"Then I will, Mrs. White." Fred actually looked pleased with his new name. Ginny took the opportunity to draw three cards, one from each separate pile and hide them in the envelop. "Right then. It says I role first."  
  
"Now hold on just one minute."  
  
"George, it says right here, 'Miss Scarlet rolls first.' Then the player to the left and so on."  
  
"Fine," George replied sullenly. "I shouldn't have given you that token." Ginny responded just as childishly and stuck her tongue out.  
  
"Having fun, I see," an adult voice said from the entryway.  
  
"Professor Lupin! They said you were here," Ginny responded joyfully.  
  
"Hey Professor, we've got the perfect piece for you. Professor Plum!"  
  
"Ah, I see you are playing Clue. Somehow Sirius got a hold of a game when we were kids. Brought it to Hogwarts and we managed to charm the pieces. But this one seems to be unaltered."  
  
"It was also unopened."  
  
"Really? Never really thought this place would be used to play board-games. I still find it odd that they exist in this house," Remus said sitting at the table with them. "Before I forget, Irvan is going to be performing some sort of spell that you might be able to feel the effects of. If so, there's no need to be alarmed."  
  
"This has to do with Snape, doesn't it?" Harry prompted. He had known the moment Professor Dumbledore arrived with Mrs. Weasley that what had happened to the hated Potions Professor was much more serious than he had first thought.  
  
"Professor Snape. And yes." Harry watched the Weasleys for reactions. It was no secret that everyone of them hated said Professor. And the twins were among the first to express joy at Snape's internment. Harry himself could careless about what happened to the Potions Master, even through the sight had been disturbing. That did not mean he liked the git. But from the looks of things the Weasleys were more confused than anything else.  
  
"Er, Professor," Ginny broke the silence. "What happened to Professor Snape?" Of the five of them, she was less critical of the Potions Professor. And it was her nature to care about the well-being of any human being. Even while Harry and Ron had a bet going that Snape was anything but human.  
  
"He was severely injured a couple of nights ago, and Headmaster Dumbledore asked you mother to assist in healing him." No details. Nothing to give away anything that had happened.  
  
* Irvan, what are you going to do? * Perhaps he would learn what Remus was keeping from him.  
  
* Not now, Harry. Go back to your game. * The vampire sounded preoccupied. And as expected, annoyed.  
  
"Hey, Harry. It's your turn." Ron pulled him back to the room he was in. Irvan was not in the mood to be helpful. Which meant Harry would have to try later. But what spell could Irvan use that people other than the caster and recipient feel?  
  
"Oh." He rolled, counted squares and moved the token. "When do we get to accuse people?"  
  
"You don't want to accuse until you know for certain who did, where, and with what," Remus explained. "Once you accuse and are found wrong you're out of the game except to disprove other people's suggestions. But if that's what you're asking, then once you can enter a room, you can make a suggestion."  
  
"And then the fun begins." George stated, in a high pitched squeak that was suppose to be his imitation of a woman.  
  
Harry stopped paying attention to the game as he felt a strange wind against his skin. He couldn't describe it as anything except that it was not normal wind. Not long after did an ice cool feeling slip along the nape of his neck. The sensation barely lasted a minute. Once over, the faces of his friends surrounding him proved that he was not the only who felt it.  
  
Even even the twins were sufficiently spooked.  
  
Remus however still seemed to be feeling it, or was still recovering from what he had felt. "I guess that was it." Somehow that statement was inadequate. "Shall we search for the kitchen and have some hot chocolate?" Everyone nodded.  
  
Abandoning the game, they went mostly silently towards the dinning room. And as though expecting visitors, there was a door Harry had never seen leading down a flight of stairs. Sitting around a good size table in the center of the kitchen, they watched as Remus busied himself with searching for the ingredients for hot chocolate.  
  
* Irvan? *  
  
No answer.  
  
"Ah, here we are. Add to warm milk and there we have it." Professor Lupin poured six mugs full. "Do you want to stay here, or go up to one of the other rooms?"  
  
"Other rooms?" Ron asked. "We've only seen that game room."  
  
"Well, then, take a good long swig of what you've got, and then I'll show you the room we decorated for Christmas." Remus had his normal good cheer going in attempts to put the others at ease. Levitating a tray laden with their mugs and a fresh pot of hot chocolate, Remus lead the way back up the stairs.  
  
* Irvan? * he tried again.  
  
* What. * Tired and of course annoyed. But oddly, mostly tired.  
  
* Did you just... *  
  
* Yes. * was the tired response. * Whatever you are currently recovering from, is a reaction to the wand I used. No harm has been done to any of you, so there is no need to worry. *  
  
* Are you alright? * Strangely he did not want to loose the odd friendship he had gained with Evan.  
  
* Yes. I'm fine. *  
  
* What did you do? *  
  
* I removed a vampiric spell that was ripping Severus's muscles to shreds. *  
  
* Vampires? *  
  
* Yes, vampires. Apparently Voldemort is after something vampires were guarding. *  
  
* What? *  
  
* That is not for you to know. * Pause. * At least not until I know what Severus is doing with it. * A longer pause. * Likely the Headmaster will be searching you out momentarily. It is my understanding he wishes to inform you of a few things. *  
  
* You mean about you and what you have been keeping me from seeing. *  
  
* Among other things. * Irvan didn't sound guilty. * That is because I am not. What I have done was to keep you alive. The added consequences of keeping a tight reign on the energy that was being drawn from you were for you to completely black out all such visions and myself viewing them in your stead. And it is of my opinion that you would have been spending more time feeling guilty, or at the least feeling disgusted, that you would not have survived your own consciousness. *  
  
* Huh? *  
  
There was a great mental sigh. * I will repeat in simpler terms. You have a tendency to think you have the sole responsibility of saving the wizarding world from this creature, Voldemort. Don't even think about denying it. It is not your fault that self-same wizarding world and Headmaster Dumbledore have drummed into your head that idea. But that is sadly the truth. And what's more is that no one person can do anything to save everything. You would still be lost in Dumbledore's dreamworld of saviors and messiahs, all the while drowning further into your guilt because you could not help someone. *  
  
* I thought you said you were going to use simpler terms. *  
  
* Did I? Perhaps you could have a simpler problem. I'll try again. None of this is your fault. If anyone's, it is Sybil's and her unpredictable prediction rate. No doubt if she had been more careful about where she shout her mouth off, all of this could have easily been adverted. *  
  
* What do you mean by that? *  
  
* Simple. No one knows about the prediction. No one does anything about it. Voldemort doesn't know and therefore doesn't "mark" his would be killer. Prophecies work only because people try to counteract what is said and in doing so inadvertently set into place exactly what they were trying to avoid in the first place. *  
  
* You are rather depressing. *  
  
* I am rather depressed at the moment. *  
  
"Ah, Harry, Remus. There you are." Dumbledore's voice startled him.  
  
* I wish you the best of luck, for I am going to rest and prefer not to be interrupted. * was Irvan's last statement before going silent.  
  
"Would you come with me, please. There are some things I need to tell you."  
  
Confused Harry followed Professor Lupin out into the hall, leaving the equally confused Weasley contingent. They walked silently to the parlor where Sirius was pointedly ignoring the portrait of his ancestor.  
  
"Ah, Headmaster Dumbledore. Moody has been wondering where you have been and desires to speak with you immediately. Primarily on why he has not yet received the second potion he requested."  
  
"Phineas? What are you doing here?"  
  
"I happen to have a portrait here," the Slytherin Headmaster stated the obvious contemptuously, straightening his dark green robes in an arrogant manner.  
  
Imperceptibly the current Headmaster sighed. "Why is it you have a portrait here?"  
  
"Sylvester was most kind in allowing a portrait of myself to hang in his house, as I was being the most recent Slytherin instated as a Hogwarts Headmaster."  
  
"Why haven't you told me this before?"  
  
"For none of this was necessary information for the Headmaster to have. Not to mention that this castle, Ciara Aloysius, is meant to remain in the analogs as a legend, not an actual location. Now, Moody would like to know if you have the time to converse."  
  
"You may tell Alastor that I will have time later. And Phineas, we will find time to discuss this."  
  
"There is absolutely nothing I have to tell you in regards to this house. If anything, my silence in this regard remains a higher priority than my loyalty to Hogwarts." Then the oil painting stalked from his frame.  
  
Harry didn't have time to wonder about the conversation, nor about the importance of the potions. His mind was far too busy trying to work out why the Headmaster wanted to speak with him, Remus and Sirius. He already knew from Irvan that it dealt with his visions and what had been kept from him. And if it involved either of these two then of course they would be here. But if it did, why had he not been told sooner? Surely something could have been done before now. And just what was it that had been kept from him.  
  
"Do sit," Dumbledore said absently, apparently still mulling over his conversation with Phineas. Or perhaps on the way to inform them of why they were here. "I fear this will take a great deal of time." And Headmaster Dumbledore proceeded to weave the strangest tale Harry had ever heard. Only a few key points glued themselves to his memory. Irvan had blocked out his visions from him. One was of Voldemort torturing his godfather. Another was Snape giving a potion to his godfather and Voldemort cursing Sirius.  
  
And Dumbledore knew from the time the Aurors imprisoned Snape that Snape was responsible for the potion's influence on Sirius. He had known for several months. And Irvan had know for much longer! Irvan had kept the information from him. Dumbledore had also.  
  
"I should have known!" he said before thinking. "I had a right to know!"  
  
"Now Harry."  
  
"I had a right to know!" he repeated. He had a right. They were is visions. It was his link to Voldemort. They had no right to keep HIS visions from him. He could have done something.  
  
"Harry, there was nothing we could have done without endangering both of them." The old man sounded concerned. "We will find a way to free Sirius from this."  
  
"Sirius," Remus asked, drawing everyone's attention to the animagus. "Where are you going?"  
  
"To kill Snape, of course."  
  
Sirius actually made it to the door before the shock settled. To kill Snape, said in a calm and slightly uncharacteristic voice that forced Harry to actually look at the man speaking, wondering if this was truly his godfather. It was Remus who called him back. "Sirius. You will stay here. We need to discuss this."  
  
"That we do not. Frankly, I don't care what all he did. This just proves he's a no-good, lying bastard." This time Harry watched in utter disbelief as his godfather dramatically slammed the door behind him.  
  
"Is he serious?" he asked the empty space.  
  
"He's always serious," Remus answered dully. "I wouldn't be too surprised if he tries to carry this out." The Defense Professor trailed off as Dumbledore rose, obviously still troubled. "Headmaster?"  
  
"I should have expected this," was out of focus reply. And the Headmaster was out the door without another word.  
  
Harry looked to Remus. They shared a puzzled glance. Harry was more worried about Snape or Irvan for that matter harming his godfather than anything else. After all, it was Snape who had the mental breakdown and tried to curse Sirius. In agreement, the two went after the Headmaster.  
  
* * *  
  
Severus opened his eyes to a pounding headache. He was sore, he was tired, and he could not put himself back to sleep because he needed to tell the Headmaster. He must have groaned aloud in his pain for he felt something come closer to his bed.  
  
"Awake?" Damn vampire. Did it not know when to just go away? "Good. You can explain to me how you got this book."  
  
"Go. Away."  
  
"Go away? Is that all you have to say?" Irvan's voice was rising in volume. Which was not helping his pounding head. Not to mention that every movement made his muscles scream in protest. Great Merlin, just what did the leech do to him? "You return, unable to stand for curse damage. And I find out that you had a bloody run in with vampires! And you say 'go away.' Then I have to go out and get that bloody Chest of yours and what do I find? That bloody book that is SUPPOSE to be with my grandparents in South Wales! And you have the bloody nerve to tell me to go away!"  
  
"Yes. This is none of your concern."  
  
"I should say it is! I will ask you again. What are you doing with THAT book!"  
  
"In case you are so blind as to not notice," Severus said pushing himself into a reasonable sitting potion. "The Dark Lord is after that book. I sent it to that Chest because that was the only way I was able to remove it from the house without the Death Eaters and the Aurors finding out. Now, just what is that book?"  
  
"Oh, no. You are going to tell me exactly what happened to the owners of that book." Irvan was in rare form. The vampire seemed physically weak for some reason, yet he was looming over the bed in a fit of rage Snape rarely saw.  
  
"The old man is dead," Severus stated bluntly. Irvan reacted as though he had been slapped. "Malfoy killed him once the Aurors arrived. The old woman was alive last I saw. I gave her a potion to make her appear dead just after she told me where to find the book."  
  
Snape watched the vampire's face grow cold and stoney. "You. You killed her."  
  
"Now see here!"  
  
"You idiot! How could you not realized you were not dealing with mere HUMANS! Did you not listen to me! THAT is my grandparents' book! That one, laying on that table! And the old couple you harassed to find THAT book were VAMPIRES! My grandparents! Have you not yet realized that ANY potion you give us will react in a far more extreme manner! In a human your potion would have been fine. But in a vampire! You sentenced her to death!   
  
"And now I have to have the responsibility of keeping that book safe! Do you realize what a complicated issue that is! First off, the other colonies must know about the deaths of my grandparents. Secondly, they must know WHERE the book is now! And third, they will want to know WHO tried to take it and WHO revealed where it was! As I am obligated to take the book after my grandparents, I am the one who should be reporting. However, there remains one small problem. You! I can not very well make myself known as long as you need to remain out of suspicion. Nor would it be safe for me to roam about freely once Voldemort knows. Apparently, not only would he want my head, but he also wants that book! Quite a bargain don't you think!"  
  
During the rant, the enraged vampire stalked over to the coffee table and picked up the wood plaque by a string handle. "You would have me explain this." It spoke smoothly, a deceptive calm. Snape studied his momentary adversary. The eyes were a more normal hematite, though he though he detected red seeping in. The creature had been outwardly calm during the duration of its rant, but the eyes had betrayed a sense of wildness and abandon most commonly associated with Bloodlust. But this might be a different sort of bloodlust. "This and its book companion. The truth of the matter is, Severus," a sly and almost self-satisfied smile, "no human was ever suppose to know of the book's existence. The fact that Voldemort does, means someone is trying to undermine us from within. You want to know what these are. I want to know why Voldemort wants them, who told him, and why the Aurors found you. Almost an even trade, you will be getting the more long lasting knowledge."  
  
A trade of information. Under normal circumstances, he would not have divulged anything except the bare facts of his 'mission.' As it was, he did not know most of what Irvan wished to know. The trade would be rather lopsided. "It would be an almost even trade if you dared to question the Dark Lord himself. I knew nothing other than to demand the book once we had portkeyed to the house." Irvan had the grace to look disgusted and somewhat fearful at the thought of the Dark Lord. "You were about to explain about that book," he prompted the speechless vampire.  
  
The glare he received should have sent him back into oblivion. It took all of a moment for those eyes to become stones. "You want answers," he whispered dangerously. "Then you shall have your answers. Within that book is everything ever written in regards to vampires. It is the sole reason we have been able to out maneuver all wizards' attempts at eradicating us. Not only does it contain weapons to be used against us, it has many counter measures that can be taken to avoid, remove, or repair the damage done. In addition, it contains all magic that we might be susceptible to for harmful purposes. Now do you see why that book is never to see the light of day," he ended in a deadly quiet voice.  
  
Snape never had the time to respond. His bedchamber's door banged open, forced open by Sirius Black. "All right, Snape. We end this now!" he yelled, drawing his wand.  
  
"Dumbledore is being a fool," Irvan hissed, bearing down on the new threat. "Tell me, would you rather be here and alive now or dead and rotting months ago?" it spat. "For I can easily finish what Voldemort would have done to you had it NOT been for the ruse of the potion."  
  
"I don't give a rat's ass for what you think would have happened. In fact, I don't care what you think at all." Black raised his wand.  
  
"You are most certainly a fool and an idiot to try to pull a stunt like that." The raging vampire had returned and was completely undaunted by Black's meager show of force. Black was thrown violently back through the doors from where her come. And Snape delighted in hearing the Gryffindor's yelps of dismay. And he thought he could hear others cry in alarm. But if Black had come in here raging about finishing something, that could only mean one thing. Dumbledore had saw fit inform the Gryffindors to the small history he had in common with Black. Namely the whole incident involving a potion, a curse, and the Dark Lord.  
  
___________________________________________  
  
Reviewers:   
  
Persephone Lupin: Sorry about the confusion, hope I cleared most of it up. And, good old Salazar should be making a couple more appearances before the story is over. And I think Slytherin is the only one who is even remotely interested in the Gryffindors swarming the place.  
  
shadoewhunter: The length wasn't that bad, only compared to the chapter previous. Chp 31's 28 KB versus Chp 30's 32 KB. Severus is never happy. And Irvan was drained rather harshly by the wand, thus Totti giving him the drink.  
  
Padawan Jan-AQ: Book explanation, hope most of the questions are answered. Ciara Aloysius is the house they are in right now, which happens to be the legendary home where Slytherin took refuge after leaving Hogwarts. Among other rather dark events. And has an extremely extensive and highly dangerous system of wards, curses, and the like protecting it. And Snape-Harry bonding will be more prevalent in upcoming chapters.  
  
Mystical Dragon: Don't think Severus liked that approach.  
  
Eizoku: Keep wondering. Thanks for the comments about the spell.  
  
Leah Durose: Always glad to be of assistance. And feel free to post your questions. Even if I might only tease you with half answers.  
  
amy: Many thanks for being the 230th reviewer. I now have enough yen to take a bus to the nearest shopping center. 


	33. Chapter 33

  
  
Chapter 33  
  
Dumbledore entered Severus's antechamber to have Sirius sail past him just miss colliding with Remus and Harry. Their cries of panic provided a background for his entry into the bedchamber itself. And come face to face with an irate, fang bearing vampire.  
  
"You're little plan of sharing everyone's secrets didn't work out quite as you planned, did it, Dumbledore? How did you plan on keeping everyone alive after this?" Irvan attacked verbally.  
  
Granted Dumbledore had been careless in relating the terrible crimes committed against Sirius, he knew he was in the right to do so.  
  
"Just how did you plan on keeping the victim from taking 'justice' into his own hands? Your judgment in timing has never been poorer. Not only do you not have a way to console them, you have no way to undo what you seek to undo. A mighty poor choice in words, Dumbledore, saying you will help when you have nothing to offer."  
  
The point had been to get everything out in the open. They were only prolonging the inevitable and a potential disaster. The more Sirius knew about his condition the easier it would be to watch and note odd changes. And with the three knowing, they would be able to report if Sirius suddenly seem under the control of Voldemort.  
  
"You knew they needed to be told," Dumbledore responded in an undecipherable tone.  
  
"Of course they needed to be told," Irvan mimicked condescendingly. "But I thought you would at least tell them that before the holidays. Before you left them to their own devices while you tramped around waiting for the Ministry to destroy your school wards. But when that happened, I expected you to wait until all persons involved were fully able to defend themselves. Though it leaves the question, when were you going to tell them why they had to come here as opposed to the comforts of Grimmauld Place?"  
  
"Once I have gained the information--"  
  
"Then why have you not waited in this case?" Irvan interrupted.  
  
"I haven't seen you correct these lapses."  
  
"I for one was ordered not to." Irvan's voice was as cold as ice and just about as hard. To Dumbledore it seemed he needed to chip away the other man's ire.  
  
"Irvan, do us all a favor and shut up," Severus saved him the trouble. The young Professor's voice was weary and troublesome. "You obviously came for that Gryffindor in the other room, Headmaster," the covert Death Eater continued weakly. His physical condition had improved but his mental faculties were out racing his body's healing attempts.  
  
"I am quite please to see you much improved, Severus." Albus stated. He wondered if he should question his Potions Professor on the activities that lead to his condition or hold off and wait for a quieter moment. He knew Sirius, Remus, and Harry were waiting in the antechamber and all likelihood listening. And he could see the vampire fuming from some unknown stimuli.  
  
"Well, Irvan?" Severus prompted still watching the Headmaster. "You are well informed. Perhaps you would grant the Headmaster with the explanation you just finished giving me."  
  
Dumbledore inwardly confessed confusion. He caught Irvan's frantic glance at the book resting innocently on the coffee table. Was the vampire at odds with Severus. Dumbledore was going to have to understand this exchange, though that might become clear once the history behind the book was told.  
  
"Lucius referred to it as The Apocalyptic Text," was Severus harsh response. Addressing Dumbledore but not turning his gaze from the awkward vampire, he continued, "I was summoned to the Dark Lord who then sent us under the command of Malfoy to retrieve a book. We were given a portkey and told to leave. There were five of us. Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, and myself. Mostly muscle incase things got ugly. Lucius and I did the actual demanding while the others remained alert for Aurors. The Dark Lord seemed to think they would be alerted sooner than expected. I am still unsure as to why.  
  
"In the house we met an old couple, they appeared to be in their eighties." Here Irvan shifted. The glares the two were sharing would have been enough to make Dumbledore back down. Something had happened. Something that affected Irvan personally. "Lucius went after the man immediately and violently. The couple knew instinctively what we were after. The woman did nothing until I approached her. She lashed out, but I did not think her curse did anything as I felt nothing." Irvan growled and looked disgusted. "Then Nott raised the alarm that the Aurors had arrived. Lucius killed the old man and ordered me to keep at the old woman until he gave the signal.   
  
"Once he left the woman said something odd. She said, 'So he is with you.' I can only assume that she meant you, Irvan. However at the time I was only thinking about getting the book out of there before the Ministry or the Dark Lord stumbled upon it. She summoned it to her and I gave her a potion that would imitate death." Severus's eyes and voice became harder than stone. "She drank it voluntarily." That statement had little meaning to him. But Irvan lost his composure for a second. There was a lost look in his eyes.  
  
"I only had time to banish the book and that key to that Chest before Lucius was calling to leave. The Aurors had put up an Anti-Apparation barrier. As we did not have a portkey to return, we had to fight our way through the Aurors. I would have portkeyed here immediately if I had not had to be seen leaving by Lucius at least. I'm not sure how we got passed the Aurors, but Nott went down casting the Dark Mark above the house. On returning to the Dark Lord, we were already in poor shape. I would venture to say the Dark Lord knew attacking that house would be difficult and with little chance of success."  
  
"You returned empty handed and Voldemort did nothing?"  
  
"If the Dark Lord had a punishment planned, it would have gone to Lucius. All I can remember is the Dark Lord mentioning that his source had been correct and that the book would be waiting for the next one to arrive to retrieve it."  
  
"What did Voldemort mean by that?"  
  
Severus now looked at the Headmaster, rising from his bed. "That is a question to address to that creature standing before you," he sneered. Dumbledore had never seen such an uncertain vampire. Irvan had actually retreated a step on hearing Voldemort's comments.  
  
"Irvan?" Better to answer all these questions before Severus discovered who all he was sharing his home with.  
  
"They were my grandparents. That is my grandparents' book. And no one outside the vampire colonies should know about it. And even there, there are very few who know its secrets."  
  
"Get to the point, Irvan," Severus hissed. "You are the only one who can find out why the Dark Lord wants that book."  
  
"The only reason he could want it is for the spells of mass destruction. Anything to be rid of us or force us to follow him. Don't think I have forgotten what happened all those years ago." Irvan's anxiety had given way to his earlier rage. A quiet rage and dangerous.  
  
"And what of the other spells? Vampires alone will not suffer from this book."  
  
"Most of those other spells can be found through other means."  
  
"Then read it and find out what is most likely for the Dark Lord to be looking for."  
  
"I will not read that book." As cold and unbendable as steel. "Where that book is concerned you hold no control. I shall not read it just so you can boast at having knowledge you would never seek elsewhere. I will keep that book secret."  
  
"You will keep it secret?" Severus said advancing. Dumbledore had half a mind to halt this conversation, but he still did not understand why that book was so important. "And just how are you going to keep it as secret that you have the book?" Severus's rage escalated at the thought of Irvan revealing himself. Although the vampire had not exactly been hiding himself lately, but no Death Eater knew his name and it was completely unlikely that vampires would care about the dealings of a school. "That book is now a weapon. The Dark Lord wants it and I want to know why!"  
  
"I will not read my grandparents' book for it is not a weapon! It was never meant to be a weapon!"  
  
"You said it was your grandparents' book," Severus yelled despite his injuries. "Well, now it's yours!" He picked up the circular wooden plaque from the coffee table where Irvan had gingerly left it. "Take your bloody book and see how you fare in keeping it from the Dark Lord." Severus threw the disk with tremendous force but without aim. Irvan taken by surprise watched as the disk flew past his head towards the fireplace. He raced to catch it before it hit the flames. He grabbed it in midair but lost his balance, sending him to all fours, the disk securely under his left palm.  
  
There was a moment when nothing happened. And then, Irvan reeled back, gasping in pain. He cradled his left hand close to his chest, wide eyed staring blankly at the floor. Turning his hand to see, he revealed a nice, crisp brand, matching exactly to the disk laying before him. He stood, looked at Severus accusingly, and vanished.  
  
"Severus, what is that book?" Dumbledore's question echoed in the stillness of the room.  
  
"The Dark Lord referred to it as the storage of weapons. Irvan likened it to more of a history of vampires and all that could harm them. We won't know what it is until we can read it. And I fear it can only be done by a vampire, likely him."  
  
"Go back to bed, Severus. We can deal with this when you are in better health." Dumbledore helped the now exhausted wizard back to the warmth of the covers.  
  
Severus balked. "You told them," he accused.  
  
"Yes, I told them. They need to know what can happen. And you need to sleep." The Headmaster quietly wove an enchantment to make the professor sleep without comment. Turning to the other three still standing at the door, he said, "Thank you for not interrupting. Sirius, I must ask you not to do anything rash or act upon what you have learned. I will answer all questions that I can. But first, let us let him sleep in peace."  
  
Dumbledore lead his small group back to the cheerfully decorated room of Christmas, where all the Weasleys were congregated. "Ah, Mrs. Weasley, Severus has woken briefly and might have overexerted himself. Perhaps you could see that he has not strained himself?"  
  
"Of course, Professor." Mrs. Weasley excused herself with a cross between a worried frown and an apology. Her family sported the same troublesome expression. Whether it was for the sudden departure of their matron or some fear of the unknown, Dumbledore could not distinguish. Nor did he spend the time to distinguish. He needed to contact Alastor and work out the problems at Grimmauld Place. And he needed to find Irvan, if that was at all possible, and understand once and for all why that book was important.  
  
Without a word of warning, the Headmaster left the morning room and its festive dressings and made his way to the parlor and hope Phineas had the presence of mind to answer.  
  
..........................  
  
Irvan? There he went again. The call had been off and on for hours on end. Ever since he had fled from Severus, that boy had been demanding attention. He had not survived for two millennia just to have a mere fifteen year old boy out do him for patience. There was nothing he had to say to that boy. Further more that boy had nothing to do with the situation. Except for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.  
  
This dispute was only between Severus and himself. Not that Irvan was in much of a position to argue beyond what be could claim as his own. And that book was his own, courtesy of the death of his grandmother. Damn his grandmother. Did she not understand what she had just done? Of course not. If she had, then this would not have happened. Though that left the question of why did she not undo the curse she laid upon Severus? Another mystery her soul would never unleash. Damn his grandmother.  
  
It had been raining for the entirety of the afternoon and only appeared to be increasing in strength as the day wore into evening. Irvan had not even taken into account the passage of time except in the measure of the pounding rain. Here he had been sitting ever since that disgraceful incident concerning the book. Here he had been sitting, holding his scarred hand close to his chest, letting the cold wet drops fall on it, cooling it. Here he had been sitting, listening to that boy try and get his attention. Here he had been sitting trying to ignore that boy.  
  
"Master Irvan shouldn't be up here," the high pitched whisper broke his thoughts.  
  
"Good evening, Totti." He could feel the sun setting. Much like the werewolf could feel the moon rising. "And where should I be?" he asked blandly, not able to pull any emotion from the elements. The parapets of the Castle Main were as good a place as any to seek refuge. None of the humans wizards were able to come up here. None of them knew how to get up here, much less suspect him of being here.  
  
"Master Irvan should be with Master Severus." A clear statement, as clear as day.  
  
"Severus is sleeping."  
  
"Master Irvan should be with Master Severus."  
  
"I am afraid you do not understand the current situation. Severus is healing just fine. However, that Chest brought the arrival of a book he should not have in his possession. And currently has caused a rift to form in our tenuous and at time tedious relationship."  
  
"Master Irvan is sulking." Damned elf.  
  
"All the time I have spent sulking can be summed up into one decade."  
  
"Then why is Master Irvan hiding from everyone?"  
  
"Because they want answers I do not have. And until I can find those answers, I will avoid them."  
  
"Master Irvan should go to Severus."  
  
Irvan frowned. Totti was persistent and Irvan did not understand why. "He would not appreciate any of it. To him I am only as good as I am useful. And given the circumstances, I agree with him. He is everything like his forefathers and life has turned friendships sour."  
  
"Why do you ally yourself with a falling house?" The question was not as innocent as it appeared. The house was not falling due to a lack of family members. While the Snape name was rare enough, there were still a few of direct lineage. Ciara Aloysius would not fall into another family's hand. But even Totti knew the family had fallen from political grace. That it had fallen from financial grace, as well.  
  
"I do not know," was his poor excuse for an answer. He felt drawn to this family. He always had. He had even meet Salazar Slytherin through the extension of this family. This family and Ciara Aloysius were perhaps one of the few things that had remained constant in his life. And it was that constancy that he craved, even as he spent time delving into each new adventure of the times.  
  
"Master Irvan is tied to this family."  
  
"Don't be ridiculous, Totti. I have never been indebted to any of them until Severus," he scoffed. "Such fanciful things are for the stories."  
  
"Then Master Irvan must understand for himself," Totti replied mysteriously. "But Master Irvan should not be up here getting soaked. You should be with Master Severus."  
  
He looked down at the petite House-elf standing only a ledge below him, looking too frail to survive the incoming storm. "Get back inside, Totti. I'll come in later. I promise." That seemed to satisfy the elf as she popped back into the kitchens, or so he supposed. He would enter the house soon enough. Likely as soon as the rain had cooled his temper and frustration. But he would return, after all he had promised Totti.  
  
.............................  
  
This was getting frustrating. It was bedtime, only a day to go until Christmas, and all the secrets of the past semester were keeping him awake, stealing the joy of the season from him. The Weasleys all had rooms on a different wing of the house, close to Harry and his father's schoolboy friends. Harry still remembered the shock on the twins' faces when they learned that the House-elves had put their stuff in separate rooms. They had put up such a fuss that Remus finally called Totti and ask that the twins be given a room with two beds.  
  
Now he was lying awake in bed pondering over the day's events. Irvan? he asked mentally for what had to be the millionth time.  
  
What? The reply was so sudden, Harry physically jumped in surprise. You've been at this all day. Shouldn't you be asleep by now?   
  
Then why haven't you answered me? Harry demanded sullenly. So he had not quite recovered from his anger. And he was still angry at Irvan for keeping his visions from him. He had the right to know!  
  
I was busy! came the annoyed snap. And why was Irvan always annoyed? Perhaps I had not made myself clear on that other point. What occurred was not intentional. It turned out to be the easiest and most efficient method, and don't go complaining to me about it. I would much rather not have to deal with it. Now if you don't have anything logical to complain about, I would appreciate being left alone.   
  
What was that whole thing with the book about?   
  
None of your business.   
  
But... What is it?   
  
That book is none of your business. Just as it is none of Dumbledore's. Nor should it have anything to do with Severus, but he has managed to find away to involve himself. And anything relating to that book is not for you to discuss.   
  
You can't tell me what to do!   
  
Having a small power crisis are you? If I tell you nothing then you have nothing to tell. And I really don't have any say in what Dumbledore tells you.   
  
Yet you listen to Professor Dumbledore.   
  
Oh, no. That I do not. While indirectly it can be said that I take his directions, it most certainly is not so. The direction for interference in your case comes from Severus, which in turn comes from Dumbledore. And if it weren't for Severus, I simply would not be bothered. Now, good night.   
  
Irvan.   
  
Do not start that again. I would like to spend the rest of this even in silent contemplation. You will have plenty of time to complain later. Good night.   
  
What was Irvan's problem? Harry bet it centered on that encounter in Snape's rooms after Sirius had been thrown out. Just what was it? And did it have anything to do with what caused Sirius's problem. So much information was being kept from him. He could help if only they told him these things. He could have helped Sirius. In his visions, he saw Sirius being tortured by Voldemort, but Irvan had blocked the images from him without his knowledge. Irvan was responsible for that ignorance. And it was his ignorance that cost Sirius.  
  
And they didn't even know what would happen. Snape might. Snape seemed to know more than his share. And it had been Snape to force that potion down Sirius's throat. The one to make that poison. But it was Dumbledore who consented to it all. Dumbledore could have stopped everything if Harry had been allow to see his own dreams. He was certain that if he could have told Dumbledore that first night it happened then Sirius would have been fine and not have this threat of a mind controlling potion. It was all their fault.  
  
Harry had listened to that entire exchange between Dumbledore, Irvan, and Snape. And it sounded as though that book, the Apocalyptic Text, had a lot of dangerous spells in it. And Irvan had even said they were spells to combat vampires. Well, what if there were spells to combat mind control. And a counter to mind control would likely break Sirius of whatever Snape did to him. Harry would just look through that book and find out. If Harry couldn't read it, then he would make certain Irvan did. He was determined to find a way to help his godfather, because he was certain that Snape was doing everything possible to not undo that potion.  
  
If he wasn't able to assist his godfather when it was necessary, then he would do everything he could to assist now. Whether Dumbledore wanted him to or not. Somehow with the thoughts coursing through his mind, Harry's body got through to him, and exhaustion took him down and out.  
  
...............  
  
Irvan was once again standing at the foot of Severus's bed. After everything that had happened, he doubted Severus would want the attention. Totti, the ever faithful house-elf, had taken her perch on the left bedpost. Severus was thankfully asleep. Neither one of them wanted to attempt to explain their presence.  
  
An odd weight settled on his shoulder. "Go away, Fawks," he told the firebird absently. "Dumbledore will be wondering what you are doing here."  
  
"Quite right." Irvan didn't even move to accept the Headmaster's presence. "I would assume that Fawks's familiarity with your shoulder means the two of you have had previous contact?"  
  
"Fawks and I have always been peculiar among our species. Unless I am mistaken we met during the first year of Hogwarts's commencement." Irvan reached his left hand up to stroke the phoenix's plumage. Fawks responded by dipping his head lower for easier reach, brushing against the vampire's neck in the process. One thing Irvan never understood was why phoenixes were on relatively good terms with vampires.  
  
"I believe Fawks is worried about you, Irvan," Dumbledore said after awhile. "He is not normally so taken with someone. And I must say I am curious as to why you remain here. It is obvious you have feelings for Severus."  
  
"Feelings, Headmaster, are subject to interpretation, and I am quite aware that my feelings are far from clear," he answered condescendingly. "My feelings have yet to be determined as benign, sinister, or even genuine."  
  
"Master Irvan is very protective of Master Severus," Totti piped up. "Master Irvan is very protective of all members of the Snape family."  
  
"I am afraid, Totti, that my former relations with the Snape family members bears no relation to my feelings towards Severus."  
  
"How do you mean, Irvan?" Dumbledore watched as the vampire moved to the balcony windows. Fawks still provided a comforting presence for the vampire, but Irvan seemed distracted and gave only a small amount of attention to the bird. To the Headmaster, it seemed Fawks was quite accustom to the treatment.  
  
"You have seen many things in your time, Headmaster, but your experiences would not be appropriate for the conflicts I seem to be having."  
  
"I'm sure as one old man to another, I will have had some similar experience. Or at least know of someone. But if all else I would hope I could be of assistance."  
  
Irvan finally turned around, both he and the phoenix had a small smile. "You are the first to refer to me as an old man in complete sincerity since Salazar." The vampire spared a glance for Severus. "I don't understand if it is instinct or genuine. You will have to understand our emotional matters of this nature are not developed at such a personal level. And after the affair of this afternoon, I must admit that I know longer know why I even bother."  
  
"I am afraid I do not understand you."  
  
"I was thrown from my entire world of existence out of an obligation to be sure Severus would not come to harm as a result of my actions and mere existence. I am now about to be thrown back into that world after twenty years of seeming to be dead. That is the simple matter, Albus. The complex issue derives from the fact that I don't feel as though I am ready to deal with the rest of my kind when I am in such a situation that I am in. Nor do I want the responsibility of keeping that book safe. Nor is it safe for me to reveal myself for it will still put Severus at risk. More to the point, it is likely a vampire who gave the knowledge of the book to Voldemort and it will be that same vampire who would betray me to him, as well. So you see, Albus, my discovery is inevitable. Yet I cannot return on my own terms as it will expose Severus. That is only one facet of my current problems."  
  
The vampire remained standing at the entryway to the balcony, contemplating the rest of his dilemmas. "The true dilemma lies with Severus. He is as strong-willed and stubborn as his fathers and he will do what needs to be done to see to fruition his goals. It was only a matter of time before his demands crossed paths with my own. I worry about what will occur when it is discovered that he has betrayed the Dark Lord Voldemort. Severus will remain stubborn, but even he dislikes betrayal. His will is about all he has left." The Creature of the Night turned once more to the thunderous evening, running an affectionate stroke along the phoenix's plumage.  
  
"But you have other problems to deal with. Sirius Black, to name one. Harry Potter, to name another. And most urgently Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Have you isolated the danger yet, Albus?"  
  
Dumbledore freely confessed that he could not follow the vampire's logic. It was too sporadic for him even to try. Nor did he put much effort in understanding the enigma Irvan was presenting. True, the vampire already knew about the catastrophes waiting to happen in the worlds of Sirius and Harry, but Dumbledore could not figure out how it knew about Grimmauld Place. Unless Severus told it. It was too likely for Severus to have mentioned something. Far too likely.  
  
"Clues have been found, but Alastor needs the second potion soon or the benefits of the first will die and the whole process will have to be begun again," the Headmaster admitted. They were no closer to identifying the leak then they had been months ago. Nothing new had come forward. No new information had been spread. That they knew at least. And with the incapacitated Potions Master, Dumbledore feared that his Order would not discover what information was compromised until it was too late. "Perhaps you would consent to assist?" he suggested.  
  
He hoped the vampire would at least consider the request. He could do nothing to change the vampire's mind, but Irvan was rational enough to know what the consequences would be for them. The silence of the room suddenly seemed overbearing. Nothing had changed, but the atmosphere grew heavy with the waiting for the reply.  
  
"It can keep until morning," was Irvan's reply. And the creature took his position at the foot of Severus's bed once more. It was a strange sight. One Dumbledore would not soon forget. Lain stretched out under dark shimmering bedcovers was his Potions Professor and Death Eater spy. Ever watchful guardians stood silent at their post. One a small loyal representative of the family, the other an older protective companion of the clan. And to provide companionship for the graveyard shift was a bright spot of sunlit loyalty and courage. The scene was peaceful, yet the atmosphere creased with heart-sinking worry and concern.  
  
Dumbledore left them for the evening. Severus needed his rest and the Headmaster would not be able to find rest while fighting the urge to hold a midnight vigil. Therefore he retired to his own guest chamber and hoped sleep would come swiftly for it would not be pleasant to lie awake with unfounded worry. He left not knowing the vampire was already calculating the numerous difficulties that lay in wait. Irvan knew their real problems were only beginning and he was ridiculously postponing them by refusing his consent to read his grandparents' book. Perhaps the boy was on to something and a possibility lay hidden between its pages. But it would all wait until morning.  
  



	34. Chapter 34

AN: You all need a break from the drama and angst. Or maybe I do. Either way you will be treated to some comedy. As for the blame: blame Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban I don't get to see until the 26th if not later; and blame Japan for the being late with these types of things; and blame Van Helsing I still haven't seen and won't see until August at the earliest; and blame Irvan for taking a side trip into Lady Esired's fic Monster; and blame Irvan for joining Kuso in both Lady Esired's Monster and my Van Helsing fic, THEART; and finally blame summer and the rains, it is hard to write Christmas in June.  
  
And blame the rubber duck and bunny changing wand on Lady Esired.  
  
Chapter 34  
  
"You're just going to upset her if you keep insisting, Molly," Arthur tried to console his wife who was currently fussing with the House-elf.  
  
"But I've never not made Christmas dinner, Arthur," she reasoned. The elf, Totti, used the distraction to vanish. Probably to the kitchens to prepare the feast ever Christmas Day needed.  
  
"Come on, Molly, dear, let's go up and see if the children have found their piles yet," he said, tugging his wife slightly, trying to pull her in the direction of the morning room decked out in Christmas cheer. "We are guests here, you don't need to make dinner."  
  
"Not that the host is very congenial about it," Bill muttered as he past his parents. Molly shot her eldest son a reprimanding look, the ones only mothers were capable of.  
  
"I know neither of you like Professor Snape much," she scolded, both Bill and Charlie, who had come down the stairs with his brother. "But he has been terribly ill and unable to be a host." The dragon tamer they had for a son threw out his hands and gave his mother the best 'what did I do' look. Arthur felt Molly sign beside him. She had had her own trying time with the Potions Master. He had heard it from his wife just last night. Luckily the Headmaster had been in the room.  
  
Molly had been in Severus Snape's room yesterday afternoon, checking up on his healing progress with Headmaster Dumbledore, when the Potions Professor woke. And from the way his wife described the scene to him, Arthur was sure it had been much worse. Apparently Molly had been standing over Snape at the time, talking to Dumbledore who was standing beside her. But his first sight had been Molly. And to hear his wife tell it, Severus acted more like a reluctant child. And knowing his wife the way he did, Arthur was sure she treated the Professor in the manner of a concerned and disapproving mother. She was use to treating her own children and would likely not change even when the patient was a grumpy, sarcastic professor.  
  
It was his understanding that the professor looked at Molly and asked her coldly, what she was doing there. And that it was Dumbledore who had assured his professor that everything was fine. Which had seemed to be the wrong thing to say. Snape apparently told them to leave. Molly would not go into that further, but Dumbledore mentioned a few things about some yelling. Molly had left at Dumbledore's urging. Also it seemed that Severus would be joining them for Christmas Dinner. Dumbledore was making sure he came down.  
  
"Wait up, little bro!" Arthur heard one of the twins call as they raced down the stairs. "They're not going anywhere!" the other one yelled as he leaped from the stairs to land in front of Ron, his youngest son. Harry was not far behind, running neck and neck with Fred. Only second to Greg and Ron.  
  
"Come on, mom," Charlie said, taking his mother by the arm. "We need to be going or they won't leave anything for us."  
  
And that was how they found themselves in the lively morning room with the wonders and splendors of the most joyous of occasions. Sirius and Remus were already present and tossing out the gifts under the tree to the intended recipient.  
  
"Hey, Harry!" the animagus called as his godson entered the room. "This one's from Hermione." And he tossed a rectangular shape at the boy.  
  
With Seeker's reflexes Harry caught the object and grimaced at its weight. "It's another book," he proclaimed dully, and Arthur had to smile at the playful reluctance with which Harry unwrapped the package. Arthur's attention was soon diverted as Remus called out one of his sons' names.  
  
"Bill, this one is from Fleur. There doesn't seem to be much there. Going to tell us what's inside?" the werewolf professor levitated the small gift to the curse breaker. Arthur decided that the package was much more fragile than the ones Sirius was throwing about.  
  
His oldest son peeked into the wrappings and blushed, a sight that was nearly missed under all that red hair. "That's none of your business," he called back. Charlie had different ideas and snatched the small brightly colored present out of his brother's hands. "What do you think you are doing?" Bill said as he tried to get the gift back.  
  
"Just sharing what needs to be shared. You can't keep it a secret forever." Charlie was dancing around presents and children, causing much laughter at his antics. The twins started rooting for the dragon tamer over the curse breaker. "It's just a picture, Bill," Charlie called over Ginny's head. "Don't see what's so.... Oh. Now I do."  
  
"Give that back, Charlie."  
  
"I don't get it. Why would you be so uptight over a picture? It's just a picture of you and Fleur on some muggle ride with swans.... kissing." Charlie tossed the picture back to his blushing brother.  
  
"I hope I have not missed too much of the fun," a soft old voice announced the presence of Headmaster Dumbledore.  
  
"Headmaster," Sirius called from by the fairy lighted tree. "There's one for you here, too." With that a brilliant red and gold wrapped box went flying through the air and landed neatly in Dumbledore's out stretched hand.  
  
"Ah, it's from Minerva," Professor Dumbledore said, reading the attached card. "It seems she went shopping with her cousin's muggle family and found something unique." The elderly wizard opened the box and pulled out a thick pair of socks. He smiled warmly as he promptly switched the gaudy red pair with the old ones. "I've always wanted a Rudolph pair."  
  
"Sirius!" It was an amused outraged cry from the werewolf. "Just what's the big idea? This is the lousiest gift you've ever given. That includes the time when gave James that bunny changing wand."  
  
"He appreciated it. Sent it for Snape to find later. Thought it was funny when Snape grew white rabbit ears."  
  
"But this?" Remus pulled out a yellow rubber duck Arthur recognized as a muggle toy. "This?" his voice was almost strangled with laughter, threatening to join the rest of the room. "What came over you?"  
  
With a straight face, Sirius explained, "It's not just a rubber duck. It is a magical rubber duck. When placed in water it comes alive. Besides, Gred and Forge gave it to me." The laughter erupted and the twins were trying to avoid the attention. Slowly that amusement died down as everyone settle back to their own gifts.  
  
Over in one corner, the twins were whispering conspiratorially and Arthur decided he did not want to get involved. He would make sure the twins did not destroy the house, but he would not interrupt their jokes. Ginny was giggling and disapproving as she looked on. Ron and Harry were playing chess on a new board, the owner of which was unclear. Bill and Charlie were relating adventures of the year while his wife scolded them for being so reckless. The morning passed in a whirl of chatter and laughter.  
  
Until Sirius Black called out in a true stage voice of concern, "Moony, I think we forgot something." Remus actually looked confused. But before he could remark, Sirius had pulled out a long plainly wrapped gift from behind the tree. A place where no one could see. On impulse Arthur looked to Dumbledore and saw the wizened face and twinkling eyes smile knowingly as though he already knew. Which would not surprise Arthur in the least.  
  
"We figured you could be using this, Harry," Sirius said handing the package over. "It's from all of us." The tag clearly read from the Marauders. Everyone was just watching. "We were planning on giving it to Lily." Slowly, without a word, Harry started to pry off the paper. Hidden within the tissue paper and padding was a Pensieve. No one seemed to know what to say.  
  
It was Dumbledore who interrupted the silence by saying, "I think Christmas Dinner is ready. Shall we go?"  
  
.........................  
  
He knew there were more people in his home than Dumbledore let on. After seeing Molly Weasley he would not guess. Not because he was afraid of the answer, but because he just did not want to know the answer. It was bad enough having Black, Lupin, and Potter there in his family's castle. He refused to believe Dumbledore would add the Weasleys to the list.  
  
It had been a couple of days now, and Severus was not quite sure what had occurred. He knew that Irvan had taken the book. That much was clear as it was no longer in his room. The Chest was still there. He would have to get rid of it soon. And the wand. At the moment both were still in his room, occupying more space then his mind could handle.  
  
And then there were those people occupying Cicero's Keep. The Gryffindors who invaded and overtook everything in their paths. There were five of them present that he knew of. And two should be returning to their origins. Even though he suspected that they had not, making the number, five to many Gryffindors in his house. Severus stood staring at the door to the morning room for a long time. Adjusting to the fact that his sanctuary had been invaded. Before the incident he had not bothered. Not cared. The idiots would be gone soon.  
  
But that was before Dumbledore betrayed him and revealed the problems of Black's mind. He was already working on it and the Headmaster had assumed he had made no progress and divulged the information. Almost getting him killed. Now not only had he to worry about finding a solution to the mind control he had created, he was suppose to teach Occulmency to a boy who would not apply it. And now, he had to add a book he knew nothing about, except that the Dark Lord wished to possess it.  
  
"You don't want to go in there," a smooth voice said from behind him. Only the age old vampire would be so bold. Severus merely turned and frowned at the vampire. As expected Irvan continued without much other prompting. "For one thing, Sirius Black is playing Santa Claus and it appears Albus just received a new pair of socks." That was more information than Severus desired to know.  
  
He stalked passed the vampire to the Library. "I thought you were reading," was his response.  
  
"I was," Irvan snapped back. Apparently his temper was on edge as well. "And I can only take so much death and destruction."  
  
Snape ignored that and studied the strange book. The one Irvan touched gingerly, as if at any second he was going to get burned. "Find anything useful?"  
  
"Nothing you would find useful. Everything supports what I've told you. Nothing that even remotely looks like it can reverse your potion or Voldemort's curse. All I've found are some vague notes. Yours among them. And nothing that would interest Voldemort unless he is interested in genocide on large groups of minorities. Which entirely possible."  
  
"But you've not read all of it," Severus interjected. He knew he would not likely learn what the Dark Lord wanted. But he wanted some idea. And what little Irvan had told did not flow with what he knew of the Dark Lord's plans. Gathering more creatures under his banner.  
  
"Of course I've not read all of it!" Irvan objected. "Do you truly think I would sit there and read that book from cover to cover? I wasn't going to read it in the first place. But you have put yourself in deep enough trouble where you need help getting out."  
  
"I did not ask for your help."  
  
"No, I distinctly remember you telling me to read that bloody book. And it holds nothing of what you seek." Irvan's voice was low and harsh, the raging current of a river. It was a way to express his supreme dissatisfaction with the situation.  
  
Severus ignored the fact that the vampire was complaining about something he clearly disliked doing, and moved on to dissecting the matter at hand. "You have made it clear that the book contains other facts than the destruction of vampires by mention my own notes. The mind controlling elements of that potion has nothing to do with vampires."  
  
"Contrary. Part of the original plan for that potion was to retake the minds of the victims of vampires and the creator had the hopes of controlling the minds of a vampire. The same hopes were held by the creator of that curse. Neither succeeded in their time, but it was thought that if work continued the desired effects might come about. Thus all research is continued to be monitored." Irvan sat sullenly and pour a goblet of red liquid. That seemed to be a common gesture when the vampire was sulking.  
  
Again Severus ignored the action and only appeared to ignore the words. He had truthfully not been aware of the other potential uses of the potion and curse. Now the idea planted, he would consider that line of research after this mess was over. If the mess was every concluded.  
  
Without warning or cause, Severus questioned, "What is this written in?"  
  
"Our own language. Native to the Born Vampires. Taught to all the Turn with varying degrees of success."  
  
"You have your own language?"  
  
"Of course. Not all of were once human. Though it is not uncommon for some of the older ones to know more than thirty languages from various eras in human history. But I fail to see the point of this conversation."  
  
"That would be because there is no point other than my own curiosity. Now, as you have said, you have not finished reading that book. I suggest you do so, then we can dispute the point of what if anything can solve the Black problem."  
  
"And I suggest you continue with your own limited progress. Even recovering as you are should not be too much of a hinderance to your research. For I do not hold out much hope of finding anything suitable."  
  
"Then hold out no hope. But that does not mean for you to quit." Severus left it at that, and stalked out of the library, leaving the vampire scowling behind him.  
  
And who of all people should he meet at the exit but Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts. "Headmaster," he greeted without emotion as he continued down the hall, intent on avoiding the issue.  
  
"Severus," Dumbledore said, stopping the Potions Master with his voice. "Join us for Christmas Dinner, Severus. Surely it is an occasion where the host should be present." Severus only scowled. Denying the Headmaster was not something one did with a clear conscience. No matter how small the request. He nodded and both moved to the family dinning room.  
  
Which upon entering he stopped dead. The noise was far greater than three bothersome Gryffindors could make. And judging from the sea of red and gangly limbs, there had to be at least nine more. "Just when were you going to inform me?" Severus hissed dangerously. The Weasley clan paid no heed as they went about gorging on the feast.  
  
"Now seemed like a good time," Dumbledore answered cheerfully as he took his seat to the right of the head of the table. With brightly twinkling blue eyes, the disarming old wizard waved to Severus's seat as host. "Have a seat, Severus. I'm sorry we began without you, but you know how children are."  
  
Severus barely contained his frustration and anger. Once again he found himself wishing vehemently that it was possible for him to murder the Headmaster. Even as he suspected a certain vampire was the cause of this mayhem.  
  
............................  
  
AN: If you are a reader who can't get enough of Irvan, or you wish to meet another vampire that will appear at the end of this story, or you like Van Helsing, I direct you to Lady Esired's Monster, a Van Helsing Harry Potter cross over. 


	35. Chapter 35

AN: For a sneak-peak at Big Brother Irvan go read Lady Esired's Monster (link under my favorites) This will likely be the last post until August something as I'm dealing with tests and moving. Enjoy.  
  
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Chapter 35 ............................................  
  
Severus was not suppose to have this book. Irvan was not suppose to be reading it. And nothing was going the way things were suppose to go. Both the Trees of Life and Knowledge normally ignite a vampire to ashes upon contact. He just happened to be a member of the only family able to make contact with pieces of those trees, but he still would never attempt to touch the live wood. As it was, instead of rendering him to a cinder, the wood branded onto his skin whatever design had been carved upon it. In this case, the required symbols to read the texts of the oldest book in existence. With a continuous updating of spells of and relating to vampires along side some of the more terrible spells and potions.  
  
The only consolation to reading the text was that if there was a counter to the problem it would be stated in full detail. Otherwise it was merely an education on death and destruction. He had not over reacted when he refused to read it. He had no interest in knowing the number of ways to kill his species and keep them alive long enough to feel the pain. There were too many in mainstream knowledge to comfort him.  
  
And now that his grandparents, his father's parents (his mother's parents were exterminated in the early stages of the Roman Empire's destruction), were ashes, and his nephew was nowhere in the vicinity, he was left with the responsibility of keeping the book from enemy hands. Enemies which included every other living being, even when most could never understand the languages with the key much less without. The key was locked safely away in Severus's box made from the Tree of Life, and another likeness branded on the palm of his left hand. The safest locations possible.  
  
At the moment, Irvan was standing at a podium staring at the obscene object. It didn't even have a name. At least the vampires refused to give it a name. Humans were of the opinion everything needed a name and referred to the bound pages as The Apocalyptic Text. Accurate title. And he was suppose to read the text and see if there was any mention of the curse plaguing Sirius Black. Which meant starting from the beginning. If the counter curse or any relevant information had been written down it would appear in the Text. That was the nature of the magic surrounding the book. Give it the word to search for new information and nothing could hide from its search.  
  
Quietly he shut the large volume. He had found something that might assist in creating a counter curse but nothing solid. Not to mention he learned far too much about everything else. He could not for the life of him think of a way to stave off depression.  
  
"Did you find anything interesting?" Damn werewolf.  
  
"As a matter of fact I did. I learned some very interesting information concerning werewolves. And how they are nothing more than a failed experiment." He felt malicious. Share the pain and all that. "A wizard millennia ago observed that wolves could detect a vampire where normal wizards' spells failed. So he decided on combining a wizard and a wolf since is very difficult to train a wolf to hunt on command. At first he thought it worked, but the experiment took place after a full moon, so the next month he was surprised to find that instead of a man, he met with a wolf. It can be estimated that several wizards were bitten that night including the creator. Oddly, only two were killed before the wolf was subdued. But they didn't kill it.   
  
"The next month he changed again, this time in a cage. But the others transformed as well. Did you know they could have stopped the threat with them if they had called that line of experimentation a failure and never looked back. Isolated the werewolves from then on. But they were considered too valuable in human form. And they thought the threat could be contained or eliminated. But it got out of control. One broke out, and was never found. It was the creator. The remainder were exterminated. But from one rouge a new race was born. Ironic that what was created for the good of wizarding kind only to be regulated as a Dark Creature."  
  
The expression on the werewolf's face was priceless. This story reaffirmed what vampires had always known, but it felt good to be able to share positive knowledge of their enemy's creation. Lupin's face was somewhere between shock, horror, disgust and anger. "Impossible," Remus breathed.  
  
"Hardly," Irvan snorted. "At least your creation was intended to be a benefit, despite the desired outcome centering on the extermination of another species."  
  
"How about vampires? How did they come to be? Did they just arrive on earth like humans or were they created by them?" Irvan frowned. The werewolf recovered too quickly.  
  
"Veelas," he began sullenly. He shouldn't be relating this information to anyone, but he was loathed to keep it to himself and be the only one to suffer. "Wizards wanted to know how that species had such long lives. Wanted that type of immortality for themselves. This was long before written documents, only recorded once a writing system was developed. Veela and human offspring were more Veela than human, but did not live as long as Veela. Humans were successful in isolating what allowed the Veela to be long lived. They managed to find a way to transfer that trait to half Veela. The transfer worked, but made them extremely sensitive. To everything.   
  
"The Halfs evolved differently, and quickly. But it was their descendants that became vampires, correcting for the inefficiencies of the Halfs and adapting to their sensitivities. Vampires evolved, but their origins were from an experiment. That is the history of Born Vampires. Turned Vampires were humans but now with enhanced senses and different magicks." He found a seat. He had depressed himself further. "Though I still don't understand how we are regulated as monsters. Just like any animal we are working towards our own survival. Turning a human can be avoided if it is drained to the point of death, retains too much blood for the chemicals to overcome, or the vampire learns how to block the release of those chemicals. There are too many accidental turnings. All by Turned. Those make up the bulk of our population. Most under a thousand years.   
  
"Even with all of the accidental turnings, our population is small. The longer a race lives the less likely it is to reproduce. The few times it is able to reproduce. Our females are usually only capable once a year, sometimes less often. If she is born, she has to be one thousand or older. If she is turned, it usually takes one hundred years for her body to adjust. A vampire can turn the day we are born, but it is unlikely. Most only turn those they care about and do not want to lose. We do not go searching for humans to turn. In fact most don't take enough blood to cause the victim harm. Only those that were unhappy with their human society.  
  
"And that book is filled with nothing but ways to destroy us. Extermination. Demoralization. Dismemberment. General suffering of masses. I suppose werewolves have an easier time of it. At least there are those who are working to ease your problem. True, there are many more who want elimination, but most are working for regulation. Not appealing, but they are not killing you off in droves. Or creating knew and better ways of providing death. They seem to just stick with silver for you. Haven't search for less expensive methods. Shows where they put their focus. What they deem more dangerous. What to we have against us? Wooden stakes. Holy Water. Sunlight. Unicorn blood. Normal methods of death, either magical or physical. And the dozens of special curses and potions meant to be rid of us.  
  
"For the most part silver will kill you outright. Only the younger of us have sunlight. The rest take time. Have you ever seen Holy Water work? They put a special charm on the water. When it touches our skin it burns, even if it is chilled. Flesh bubbles, muscle tissue is destroyed, and the wound can never heal naturally. We created a potion to help, but the scars never disappear. And do you know why we never hold a wooden wand? Normal wood is no threat unless it is impaled through us. No, wands hold magic and are weaker versions of the Tree of Knowledge.  
  
"There are too many ways to die a slow and painful death. Too many ways to kill large numbers in one go. Do you know why a werewolf bite will kill a vampire? It is toxic. The chemicals in the saliva increase the heart rate and blood production. While good for a werewolf and its need and method to heal quickly, it is detrimental to us. Our heart beats fastest right after feeding, but it is still considered slow compared to the average human. Twenty maybe twenty-five times a minute. Our hearts cannot handle the stress of any faster rate. It fails long before the blood reaches an intolerable level. It was once surmised that increasing the blood flow would cure a vampire. It would make sense if you consider the fact the chemicals can only overcome a low amount of blood. But it doesn't work the same with one who is already a vampire. We don't know why, but if too much blood is injected into our bodies, we begin to bleed at the pores, dispelling the extra. But we never stop and bleed to death. so I suppose it is better to die of heart failure than slowly losing all your blood. Even our victims we decide to kill are unconscious long before they feel the suffering.  
  
"It's all in that book. All explained in gory detail. More so than my descriptions. There are pictures and diagrams in some places where the author felt more explanation was needed. Too many."  
  
The vampire fell silent and Remus watched on. It was a wealth of information Irvan had shared but none of it was uplifting. He could understand how the vampire felt. It had already known what could kill him, he didn't need the detail of how. However, even as a werewolf he had not known his bite would kill a vampire. Nor had anyone known how werewolves came to be. The knowledge was shocking but not entirely surprising. But was he going to inform the world of the truth. Unlikely. He would not be believed and no vampire would back him up. Irvan was in a similar position, but it seemed his revelations would be received as truth if received coldly.  
  
"You are worried about your friend," Irvan began again, "but there is nothing in that book to help him. Just as I said. There is nothing new about that curse written. And unlikely to be after it is finished searching. Nothing I hadn't told you before. That's not to say it is not in existence, just that no one has written it down." This time the vampire dropped his head to his hands and stared blankly at the floor.  
  
"Is he all right?"  
  
"He's depressed," Remus answered.  
  
"Who wouldn't be if that was what you've been reading for two days straight."  
  
"How much did you overhear, Bill?"  
  
"Most of it," it was Charlie who answered. Both of the older Weasley brothers were standing behind the werewolf, watching the vampire. "That's not normal, is it?" Leave it to the dragon handler to recognize the odd reactions of Irvan.  
  
"Not as far as I know," Bill answered. "Do you think he can hear us?"  
  
"Likely. Irvan? Irvan, come on, we're going for a walk."  
  
"Why would I voluntarily place myself in your company," Irvan mumbled, not looking up.  
  
"I don't have a very good answer to that," Remus responded perhaps more cheerfully than the situation called for, but it elicited a reaction from the vampire. He actually turned his head to face them, waiting for the werewolf's explanation. "It is either come with us to get a drink and try to forget the worst of it, or stay here and brood over possibilities you may never see, much less experience for you could only experience one in most cases, correct? Then you can go complain to Severus how we interrupted your work." And he waited. Irvan would either agree or ignore them.  
  
The vampire surprised them all when he stood. "You were correct in saying your answer was not very good. However, it was realistic. And I am not one to neglect an opportunity to converse with remotely interesting company." Once Irvan stepped over the threshold of the library into the hall, his demeanor changed dramatically. He raised an eyebrow at the redheaded men, "And how was dinner with Severus?"  
  
Bill looked over at his brother Charlie and they shared a small laugh. "I think," he started explaining, "the twins would be the best ones to ask about that. Mom was scolding them for stuffing the goose with some of their jokes. They were just lucky it was the Headmaster who did the carving." A small smile drifted across Irvan's face as he imagined the scene.  
  
"Come on, we're all going to need hide from Severus shortly." Remus didn't know why he was suddenly taking the time to actually know the vampire, but he figured it had something to do with the knowledge just imparted to him. Or just the troublesome tone in which he related the facts. "I'd say Cicero's Keep but, everyone else is there right now."  
  
Irvan spoke up, offering a change. "There is room that I have never known Severus to frequent. Nor to my knowledge has it been used since Sabrina Olosus Snape."  
  
"When was that?"  
  
"She was head of the Snape family in the 1500s. I believe she was the one who purchased that Ward Guardian out front. I also believe she was related to the Black family. But seeing how the Blacks and the Snapes have never really enjoyed each other's company, she would not be discussed much."  
  
"What do you mean the Blacks and Snapes do not get along?" Remus questioned. "Severus and Phineas seem to talk together quite nicely."  
  
"Phineas is a portrait. And while a good one, not the absolute best at representing the person's personality. You will understand when you meet the other portraits in Sabrina's Study."  
  
"Are all of the rooms here named after some relative of Snape's?"  
  
"No, only most. Here we are." Irvan pushed against a section of wall which slid away to reveal a hidden room. Remus noted how very quickly Irvan seemed to change from a manic-depressant to his more normal self. One where he seemed to enjoy conversation for conversation's sake, not the sake of the company.  
  
The room was unlike the ones Remus had spent time in, granted those were few in comparison to the size of the estate. It was far from formal, most unlike what he had expected from a sixteenth century style. The room more resembled an artist's studio than a library. Sketches strewn in every corner available, drawing utensils scattered in various containers.  
  
"I though you said this was a library," was Charlie's first impression.  
  
"You were under the misconception that libraries contain only books," Irvan returned condescendingly. Turning to an empty frame, he said, "Sylvester?" And a sever man dressed morosely stepped into view. He reminded Remus more of a seventeenth century Puritan, than a man from somewhere in the eighteen hundreds.  
  
"What is it Irvan? You have a nasty habit of arriving when I least desire it." Sylvester Snape spoke crisply and agitatedly, as if being pressured into something.  
  
"That is only because you never desire anything." The response was bland. It must have been a typical exchange. "Has Severus visited this room lately?"  
  
"No. That boy refuses to come here. Never gave a reason. Fine by me, the less time he spends here the more I have for solitude."  
  
"Doesn't mean much if you are gallivanting around in other portraits."  
  
"I do not gallivant. Now why are you here?"  
  
"To use this room and hide from Severus, I believe. I'm sure you have better things to be doing. I'll just let you continue." The portrait did not grant Irvan a response which Irvan apparently did not mind. The vampire turned to a bookshelf sprawling with loose papers and scrolls. After shifting many piles, he seemed to find what he as looking for. A small circular handle. When the vampire pressed it, the circle grew into a small hole in the wall. He turned around with a clay bottle in one hand and four shallow bowls. "But we came for the drink." Setting the bowls on a small table between some chairs, he poured each of them some thick red liquid.  
  
Irvan slipped into a chair as he watched the three humans eye the drink curiously and warily. He picked up his glass and began sipping from his shallow clay bowl. Remus having suggested the trip out of the library, lifted the vessel before him gingerly. His sense of smell told him it was not wine. Nor blood. But he did not know what it was. The only way left was to taste the red liquid. Without paying much heed to Irvan or the Weasleys, Remus took a swallow.  
  
His face lit up in puzzlement at the taste. Cool, almost cold, slightly sweet and without the bitterness of alcohol. Yet there was a quality he could not explain, did not recognize. A tangy bitterness that vanished almost as soon as he thought he tasted it. Overall he could find no fault with the cold, thick liquid, despite not knowing what it was.  
  
"What is it?" he asked curiously, looking from the red drink to Irvan quietly sipping his own, lost in thought.  
  
"Are you sure you want to know?" was the reply, a small smirk playing on the corners of his lips. From the other corner of the room the Weasleys were not as accepting on hearing this. Charlie looked ill and Bill seemed to be choking by the way he was coughing and beating his chest.  
  
"It's blood" Charlie managed in a hushed tone, afraid of the answer.  
  
"Nonsense. Blood does not keep well after leaving the body." The words were those of an explanation to a child, but the vampire's grin betrayed genuine amusement. "It's from a plant we have hidden from humans and it does a remarkable job of looking and tasting like blood. But nowhere near as good as the real thing. And this does take at least a thousand years before it is ripe for drinking."  
  
This time Remus barely held in his portion and started coughing violent as the drink slid down the wrong pipe. "You mean this is over a thousand years old?"  
  
Irvan raised an eyebrow as if considering the statement odd. He then lifted the clay bottle as if to read the label. "Some dialect of cuneiform. The date is fairly useless now that the Christians have changed the calendar. Though regardless this is more than three thousand years old."  
  
This time Charlie was choking so hard his brother had to pound him on the back to make sure he was all right. Over Charlie's dry retching, Bill managed to swallow his shock and ask, "Three thousand? That shouldn't be possible."  
  
"I assure you this drink can last favorably for at least five thousand years. Six if the brew is particularly fine. Which I suspect this is. It has kept the coldness quite well. Some of the weaker versions will warm up to room temperature too quickly and spoil the drink." Irvan sipped his beverage and lapsed into silence.  
  
Several moments ticked by and Remus braved more of the strange liquid. Knowing it was not blood helped in keeping his squeamishness aside and wondering again at the vampire. Who had just pulled a prank on them all, and seemed oddly pleased with the outcome. The Weasleys however did not seem to have the same luck. Bill had abandoned his drink on the table, though Charlie was still attempting, admirably so, to get past the thought of it appearing like blood.  
  
Bill was the first to breach the almost comfortable silence. "That book, would it really have an answer to Sirius's problem?" The vampire frowned and stared into his drink. The older Weasleys had been told of the issue with Sirius and the mind controlling potion and curse. Dumbledore had wanted more eyes on the animagus and Harry just in case something odd occurred. Yet from Irvan's pensive face, this was the last subject he wished to discuss over a drink. And it had actually been Remus's plan to avoid the topic for as long as possible. He couldn't understand it, but he did not think a depressed Irvan was going to be productive in helping find a cure for Sirius.  
  
"There is that possibility," Irvan said quietly to his drink more than the people in the room. "However. it is highly doubtful. While both the curse and potion once had a side intention of reclaiming humans under vampiric mind control, neither ever worked. It would seem Voldemort has found a way to successfully combine them. Thus since it would be a new development, it would not have any counter to it."  
  
"Surely if we new the spell used we could come up with a counter-curse. Right, Bill?" Charlie had finally given up and placed his vessel of drink on the table. Now it was only Remus and Irvan who held theirs, yet Irvan did not appear to be interested in drinking anymore.  
  
"Possibly," the other redhead answered slowly. "While I might be a good enough curse breaker for the Goblins to keep hanging around, dealing with curses on humans is not my field of expertise. Especially not dealing with the mind. I won't say I won't try. But... Are you sure there will be nothing?"  
  
"No, I'm not sure," Irvan snapped. After a visible effort to calm himself, the vampire set his vessel down and leaned forward. A face looking no more than twenty but strange eyes betraying countless centuries stared unblinkingly at them. "There are a great many things in that book and I have no desire to learn about any of them."  
  
"You aren't interested in finding out how to cure Sirius?"  
  
"Sirius is not my concern. I am only doing this to keep Severus out of more trouble than he already is."  
  
The Weasleys shared a look and Bill turned back to the vampire. "Perhaps more heads will help in solving this problem." Remus knew the brothers were more interested in finding a cure for Sirius than giving any assistance to Snape.  
  
As though anticipating the request, Irvan interrupted saying, "You are unable to read it. No translation charm you know will enable you to read it."  
  
"That doesn't mean that we could be of help," Charlie defended just as quickly as Irvan shot them down.  
  
"It means humans are not suppose to know about the book, much less about what is inside. If you think I'm going to allow you free reign, you are sadly mistaken."  
  
"I don't think that is what they are asking, Irvan," Remus volunteered, to Irvan's further annoyance. "Perhaps you just need to translate the more relevant texts. The ones that they might be able to create something useful from. I don't mean any offense, but I doubt you're very good when it comes to creating counter curses. And that's Bill's job. Give him a chance."  
  
Irvan just frowned and stared blankly at them for a few moments, sighed and picked up his drink again. "What's the point," Remus thought he heard the vampire say before Irvan drained his vessel. After a moment of watching the dregs settle, Irvan placed the bowl on the table and refilled it. "I came to forget. If you are still intent on this subject later, we'll see."  
  
That seemed to be as positive a response as they would receive from Irvan at the moment. Remus continued to sip at his drink, wondering what else was in that book Severus called the Apocalyptic Text. And how Severus was handling the news of having the entire Weasley clan, minus Percy, under his roof. Dumbledore had seemed to have trouble keeping the Potions Master from exploding at the Dinner. Though thinking about it, it was probably the fireworks in the goose. 


	36. Chapter 36

"No!"

Bill put down the translation he was studying to look up at the single utterance of denial. In the spacious library only Bill's brother, Charlie, and the vampire, Irvan, occupied the various tables. Scraps of papers and many aged, dusty volumes opened to potentially useful passages. The curse-breaker watched Charlie search the room for the origin, but Irvan was oblivious to the sound, staring at that book with a look of intense concentration.

The brothers shared a look and since the sound did repeat they returned their research. The translated pages from the Apocalyptic Text held shocking materials, enough that Bill spent much of his time in dazed amazement. The passages Irvan had translated read like the worse gruesome torture manual. It was the history of the creation and testing of the first Imperio spells. He knew that Charlie was reading Snape's letter to Dumbledore and looking for a way to counter the potion.

But he was suppose to be dealing with the curse. And he was startled at watching the development of an Unforgivable. The journals of the wizard, the madman, who spent his life cursing multitudes of people in attempts to find so called cure to victims of vampire control. There were tests against vampires, but the most horrendous were the atrocities against the humans when the wizard could not capture a vampire. Bill had seen the results some of the worst ancient curses and he was blown away with the task of finding a counter to what should be deemed worse than an Unforgivable.

Where he found flaws they were corrected later on in the process. This wizard knew what he was doing.

But outside there was some kind of large disturbance, which even caused Irvan to look up. Yet he didn't seem to be interested in anything outside the closed doors. Charlie on the other hand wanted to know who was on the other side of the barrier. The dragon trainer tossed the pages of the letter down onto the table and rose. Bill let his attention wander, he had after all been at this all morning and afternoon.

The swing of the hard oak door let loose an all out brawl. On one end of the hall were the twins. And the other had Ron, Harry, and Ginny. All of them had their wands out and were firing off harmless spells in a mock battle. What was missing were the adults who were suppose to watching them.

"Are you going to stop them?" Bill asked?

"Are you? It'd be more fun than this. But where is everyone else?" Charlie asked as he closed the door against wayward hexes.

"You mean no one is there?"

"None. Did they tell you anything? Snape would be in the labs. But what about mom and dad? Sirius and Dumbledore?"

This time Bill stood and went to the door, where the wand war had moved further down the hall. "Dare we set out to find them? Do you even known where they are? Maybe they've learned something else." There was a silence growing between them as they tried to decided where they could do the most good.

"They are in Severus's labs." Both turned as Irvan spoke at last. They had not fully expected him to even take part of their conversation. Bill and Charlie shared a look as if deciding whether they should stay or go. "You have not shown that you can be of help. You might as well prove your uselessness with the rest of them."

Charlie shrugged and moved back to the doors and exited into the hall. Bill jumped out of his desk and joined his brother in the hall. "Do you know where Snape's labs are?"

"This way. Snape had to let me in to them so I could make that potion for work the other day. He wasn't too happy about that." They quieted as they approached the lab door, from the muffled noise emitting from behind it did not sound like a peaceful discussion.

The sudden sound of breaking glass covered the Weasley boys' entrance into the fray. Sirius had seemed to have thrown a beaker of some kind of green liquid. "You can't expect me to drink that from a man who is just trying to save his miserable skin."

"Apparently you have yet to understand that I had saved your miserable life. If it weren't for me, the Dark Lord would have killed you."

"Severus," Dumbledore interrupted the greasy potions master, but Snape still retained his smirk of superiority even as he fell silent. "Sirius, this potion is going to return your memories and begin to break the hold of the curse. Please, just take the potion." To Bill, it sounded as though the Headmaster had already had this argument with the animagus. On one side of the room was the Azkaban escapee and on the other, dangerously close to the green smear on the wall, was Snape. Dumbledore took a position in the middle.

Sirius Black grimaced. None of the other occupants took much notice of Bill or Charlie, all waiting for the animagus to make a decision. Snape scooped out a new goblet and heavily set it on a table. Then stepped away. Dumbledore took the potion and handed it to Sirius. Black took it, turned to the Weasley brothers, raised the goblet, saying, "Cheers."

"Wait." Snape's halfhearted command caught everyone's attention.

Dumbledore turned expectantly. But it was the sudden appearance Irvan changed the attention. "That potion cannot be used." The vampire directed his ire against Severus. "Lamprey's scales cannot be used in this potion."

"There are no ill effects by using Lamprey's scales. They are a key ingredient in breaking down the memory barrier."

"But in this case, the Lamprey's scales will combine with the Goldfief from the original potion, interacting with the patient's memories, forcing him to relieve every moment of those memories instead of just removing the barrier."

"Sirius?" the Headmaster sharply asked the man.

"Too late." The goblet dropped to the floor with a clatter. Followed shortly after by the unconscious body of Sirius Black.

"What is happening to him?" Dumbledore demanded in his soft command.

Heedless of the tone, or perhaps because of it, Irvan rounded on the Headmaster of Hogwarts and repeated. "He is reliving every moment he lost from that potion, starting from the first moment the potion was suppose to block out. Not to mention a constant and low level amount of pain overwhelming his nervous system."

"Why didn't you know about this before?" The question was directed to Snape, but it was Irvan, again, who answered.

"Because he did not have the necessary sources to compare. Nor did he tell me what he was doing. Nor what he was using. And I just came by that piece of information just now, cross referencing with the list of ingredients Severus used in his original potion. Now all you can do is keep him from harming himself."

"For how long?"

"How long was the potion suppose to black out?"

"The week he was captive and the three days before he was captured." Severus answered coldly, just now understanding the complications.

"Then he must remain here for ten days." The finality of Dumbledore's statement drew everyone's attention. Snape's most of all, who scowled and swiftly retreated from the labs. "I'll have to speak with him," the Headmaster said to himself. "Bill, Charlie, would you please take Sirius to his rooms. I'll inform Harry and Remus myself. Irvan, you'll have to speak with Severus also."

"Considering the fact that I am inclined to agree with him, I see no purpose."

The new year was depressing and not even the Weasleys could cheer him up. When Harry wasn't antagonizing about Sirius he complained to Evan who he conveniently forgot at times was Irvan. So when the new term began, it was a relief for all of them. Snape still had Sirius in his house, but Irvan could travel between Hogwarts and Ciara Aloysius.

A few days into the term and Sirius was back at Hogwarts, more subdued and confined to some rooms near Remus. It was near impossible to visit his godfather and that just left Harry to sulk even more. Hermione had to learn of the eventful Christmas holidays from Ron, Ginny and the twins. From the four of them, he got the gist of what had occurred. She was not happy with not being there to join in the adventure.

Sirius Black was seldom seen even by Remus. Deep in the back of Dumbledore's mind the seed of concern took root. Deep enough where he needed to change the course of Sirius's musings.

"He has his memories now. Shouldn't the curse be broken now?"

"It is not that simple." The vampire stood by the window. It was only the two of them in Dumbledore's office. The Headmaster had not planned it that way. Irvan had come to him concerned about Severus's life should Voldemort learn of his involvement in removing the affects of the potion. "He has his memories, yes. But Voldemort still has his hold on him. The curse has not been interrupted."

"Then how is this curse going to be removed."

"Why should I care? Sirius is not my problem. I've had enough of Harry's complaints."

"Complaints about what exactly?"

"Have you not been listening or watching. The boy is sulking just as much as Sirius. It would help matters if you got Sirius out of Hogwarts. Perhaps then he could get beyond blaming Severus."

"I cannot. Not until I know he will not cause trouble."

"Good luck with that. He is a seat of trouble right now."

"But you have no solutions."

"I'm not suppose to. That's Severus's and your job." Irvan dismissed the accusation with a wave of his hand.

"Then you can talk Severus into assisting in developing a solution. Bill and Charlie are struggling with the translations you provided."

"Then let them struggle. I have already told you my fears. Severus is bound for controversy for his involvement. And not only with Voldemort, but the longer you let Sirius sulk and contrive revenge the more of a chance he will expose himself to exact it."

"So you have said. But there isn't much we can do until Sirius no longer is subject to this curse."

"It might be easier to discover a means of breaking the curse if the curse." With those words an idea started to form in his mind. Calling the vampire to listen, he concocted a possibility. It was risky, but still a possibility. If everything went well then he could deprive the Dark Lord of a potential weapon without harming their side. The difficulty was timing everything to the benefit of their side and providing Voldemort with a lure strong enough to invoke the curse.


End file.
